Special Investigations Division: Countdown
by Loki's Son
Summary: Planetary leaders across the Federation have been kidnapped and the SID team is called in to investigate and rescue the "hostages". Only...are they prisoners?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or its related properties. All such rights and considerations belong to CBS/Paramount.**

**This is the 13th installment of the SID series. If you enjoy or have been enjoying the adventures of the team, try out _Vignettes featuring Ro Laren_ which showcases the early adventures of the ex-Maquis members of the crew. The series is available on FanFiction as well.**

* * *

Prologue

Macen fidgeted and glanced about the room. The entire crew of the _Obsidian _was gathered in the small chapel Daggit and Parva had selected for their wedding site. In the front row sat Tom Riker and Lisea Danan bedecked in formal attire. Next to them sat Joachim Dracas. Dracas was resplendent in his dress Star Legions armour and uniform. Kort uncharacteristically wore a dark suit.

Standing before Macen to either side were T'Kir and Hannah Grace. T'Kir wore an ivory scoop necked bias cut dress. Her raven hair cascaded down her shoulders and her sapphire eyes were bright and eager with anticipation. Grace wore a cream V-necked surplice dress. Her blonde hair was worn up, fastened with a diamond comb.

Macen was unexpectedly nervous. He'd never officiated a wedding before and he didn't want to destroy the beginning of the nuptials. He noted that Amanda Drake sat in the back of the room. She wore her Starfleet dress whites. The Admiral seemed amused by Macen's discomfort.

Daggit appeared. He wore a traditional Angosian wedding ensemble. He wore an olive tunic with a loose fitting black vest and brown trousers. Macen squared his shoulders and committed himself to the ceremony at that moment. All doubts were gone. He would complete the mission or die trying.

Daggit came up beside Grace. Daggit's preferred choice for attendant would have been Hal Dracas. Unfortunately, to everyone's sorrow, Hal was dead. Grace was Daggit's closest surviving friend so she earned the honour of standing beside him during this auspicious occasion.

T'Kir was Parva's Matron of Honour. They'd never been close until recently. T'Kir had telepathically plumbed the depths of Parva's soul in an effort to help restore her memory. That had forged an unbreakable bond between them.

The music started and everyone rose. Parva appeared at the back of the chapel. She wore a black dropwaist tank dress. She radiated joy. Macen couldn't recall ever seeing her look so happy or so beautiful.

Daggit was swept away by the moment. The hard bitten ex-soldier had tears in his eyes. He unashamedly wiped them away and returned his gaze to Parva.

Parva began her procession in time to the cadence of the music. Drake seemed somewhat startled. Prepared to be slightly nauseated by Orion pheromones, the Admiral was surprised to find that she was unaffected. Little did she realise that Daveed B'nner had always removed the glands that produced the infamous secretions. In that way, he remained dominant in the face of Orion feminine wiles.

Parva reached the podium and stopped. She reached out and Daggit took her hand. They faced Macen and waited patiently.

_Here goes everything._ Macen thought before beginning, "Today we are gathered together to witness a blessed event. There is no greater joy than uniting two people in the bonds of matrimony and ship captains have shared this august privilege since time immemorial. Rab Daggit and Parva seek to solidify their already strong relationship through the exchange of vows to keep themselves faithful and true to one another."

"They have already made this commitment in their hearts but today they would like to share their love with each of you. They have not entered into this decision lightly. They have faced trials and even death together. They know the road they are taking is one full of struggle yet is also one with the deepest rewards."

"These two people have fortitude and resolve. Two characteristics that are vital to make a marriage succeed. They also have an undying tenderness for one another. This will grace their happy days and ease the burden of their sorrows."

"Today we mark the end of their individual lives and witness the birth of a new union. They will become parts of a greater whole merging their strengths and weaknesses in an effort to find a stronger balance and a greater good than they could find apart. This is their goal and will, the Fates providing, be their achievement."

"Now we come to the exchanging of the vows. This will mark the formalisation of their love for one another and clarify to all what their true intention is." Macen turned to Daggit, "Rab Daggit, do you pledge to put Parva above all of your needs, to seek the common good, to stay faithful to her no matter the circumstance, and to above all else, love her as the unique and cherished individual that she is?"

Daggit never hesitated, "I do."

Macen faced Parva and smiled, "Parva, do you pledge yourself, wholly and unconditionally to Rab, looking after his needs, committing yourself to the ideal of two becoming one, and respecting Rab throughout the various tribulations that will arise?"

Parva was quite solemn as she answered, "I do."

Parva lit into a radiant smile that melted Macen's heart. It took him a moment to compose himself, "Then by the power granted me by the Federation Privateer's Commission and by the Prime Minister of Barrinor, I pronounce you man and wife."

Without prompting the couple locked themselves in a passionate embrace and a lingering kiss. The crowd rose to their feet and roared with approval. Daggit led Parva to the rear of the chapel and the line of well wishers formed up.

T'Kir sidled up to Macen, "Well, so far their day is going smoother than ours was."

"Ours was fine until this part." Macen grinned ruefully, "There's still the rest of the day _and _the honeymoon."

"Our honeymoon was sweet." T'Kir protested.

"Yup." Macen agreed, "I enjoyed every moment of it up until we were captured by mercenaries."

"Sure," T'Kir pouted, "focus on the bad stuff."

Macen's eyes met hers, "I'd do it all over again if it meant that we could be together."

"Now you're talkin'." T'Kir lit up.

"C'mon," Macen took her hand in his, "let's say congrats to the newly minted couple."

"You're on." T'Kir happily followed him.

The reception went on for several hours. There was singing, laughter and dancing. The affair was catered by one of Barrinor's most famous chefs. The _Obsidian's _chef swapped recipes with him. In the end, Daggit and Parva were escorted back to their flat. The couple disappeared with a final wave. The cheering crowd dispersed and went on to various private celebrations. Daggit and Parva departed the next day for Risa…to much fanfare and celebrating.


	2. Chapter 2

14

Astris Beru rolled over in her bed for what seemed the thousandth time. Try as she might, she couldn't escape the feeling of inevitability. _Something _was going to happen. She couldn't define it but the Prophets were revealing it to her.

Astris had been elected to the post of 1st Minister barely eight months ago. She'd been born and raised in the Bajoran Camps inside the Federation border. A decorated Starfleet officer, she'd resigned her commission in order to enter the political arena of her parents' world. Her campaign had focused on reconciling the disparate elements of Bajoran society back into a cohesive whole.

Bajor had joined the Federation six years ago but that admission still bred great social, economic and religious upheavals. Astris had been elected on her strength of having successfully lived in both the religious world of Bajoran faith and the secular world of the United Federation of Planets. She often wished she honestly felt the confidence that she outwardly displayed. Her world was changing faster every day. The people were sceptical and the Vedek Assembly was resistant.

Astris was viewed as the port in the storm. She carried the faith of the people while navigating these new untested waters. With the Emissary in seclusion and the Kai immersed in dogmatic minutia, that left her as the sole banner of reasoned faith. Her one steadfast ally was Captain Kira Nerys of _Deep Space 9_. Owing to Kira's leadership during tumultuous times, Kira was viewed with a kind of reverence. Kira's influence was also hampered by her duties to Starfleet.

Astris heard the door to her chambers swing open slightly on its hinges. Astris sighed. The Militia's Constabulary was paranoid about her safety. It had been years since the Circle or any other terrorist movement had threatened a member of the Ministry. On restless nights, Astris resented the intrusions of her ever-watchful security detachment.

_That's what sensors are for_. she thought bitterly and flopped a pillow over her head. It was childish, she knew, but it seemed apropos. Perhaps the demons haunting her could be hidden from. _If only my former captain could see me now._ Astris laughed to herself.

Astris was the youngest 1st Minister since the end of the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor. In her mid-thirties, Astris had barely reached the rank of Commander before leaving Starfleet. The toil of her present occupation was beginning to show. The wrinkles in her forehead had deepened and her blonde hair was now shot through with white. Her blue eyes still shown with vibrant intelligence but much of her former enthusiasm and optimism had waned.

Sighing, Astris threw back the blankets and the pillow on her head. She padded over to the replicator across the room and ordered warm _mijou_. It had been her mother's cure for sleeplessness and it still occasionally worked. Astris fervently prayed that it would work tonight. Despite Bajor's joining the Federation's "gift economy", she still had a budget meeting in the morning.

Astris downed the fluid before it cooled and recycled the glass. Squaring her shoulders, she strode back to the bed and laid herself upon it as though engaging an enemy. She pulled the blankets tight to her chest and returned the errant pillow to the stack under her head. She shut her eyes closed and began her meditative exercises.

Soon, she was breathing deeply on her own and slumber overtook her. She fell asleep in time to avoid the next visual sweep of her bedchambers. Satisfied, Sergeant Jared Kilj closed the door and returned to his post in the sitting room.

The sitting room had been converted into a compact security office. Sharing Jared's post was Leto Fira. The young corporal was among the first of the first generation of Militia officers that hadn't been members of the Resistance. Jared resented the fact that the woman had been in grammar school while he'd risked his life for Bajor's freedom. Astris Beru was a problem on an entirely different scale.

"So," Leto smiled, "how's the Princess sleeping?"

Jared returned her smile upon hearing the detail's secret nickname for Astris, "She just nodded off."

"About time." Leto huffed, "I was getting as jittery as a razorcat. Having to tiptoe everywhere gets old in a hurry."

"I believe the Princess resents our presence." Jared observed, "She's Starfleet trained. She's used to caring for herself."

Leto snorted, "She should have thought about that before she ran for the job."

Jared shrugged, "Old habits and attitudes die hard. I still sleep with a phaser within arm's reach."

"It's been fourteen years since the spoonheads left." Leto chastised him, "They're not coming back."

"That's what we thought before the Dominion War happened." Jared rebutted.

"Maybe." Leto allowed, "But now we have treaties in place and Federation fleets to back us up."

"Believe what you will." Jared counselled, "I'll be content to just get our charge safely through the night."

Leto lifted her mug of tea, "Amen to that."

* * *

In an outer room of the Minister's Mansion, two Constables monitored a sensor station. It could have easily been manned by a single occupant but doubling personnel helped keep the Constables awake and alert. The two Militia officers were trading jokes when a looming shadow fell over them.

The two men started, "Dammit Kelv, don't do that!"

Kelv Sidra shrugged, "Not my fault you're getting sloppy."

"Whatever you say." the complainer retorted and returned his focus to his screens, "Hey, there's a lorry outside the main gate."

The Constable barely had time to register the hypo pressed against his neck before it hissed and he became unconscious. Kelv placed a vice-like hand around the other man's mouth and pressed the hypo to his neck. It discharged and the Militia officer went limp.

Kelv shoved one of the men aside and took his seat. Systematically, he deactivated all of the sensors and visual feeds. He removed a comm badge from his pant's pocket and tapped it with his thumb.

"The compound is secure." Kelv relayed, "Neutralise the guards as necessary."

* * *

Outside, two armoured figures jumped out of the lorry and stunned the challenging sentry. The Constable in the security booth hit the alarm button but nothing happened. She reached for her phaser but one of the armoured figures had reached the booth and shot her through the open window. He then reached into the booth and deactivated the gate's forcefield. The lorry whooshed by, propelled by an antigrav field.

* * *

Jared and Leto heard shouts outside the Minister's Residence. Phaser fire followed. Leto activated her external monitors but the feeds were dead. She stood and drew her phaser.

"Get to your firing point." Jared ordered.

Leto moved over to a corner where the foray opened into the living room. She heard a noise behind her and turned her head. Jared calmly stood behind her with his phaser aimed at her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

Jared smiled sadly, "You wouldn't understand." With that, he stunned her. She fell to the floor and the residence's doors opened. Kelv strode in.

"Any problems?"

"Not yet." Jared replied, "But she won't go quietly. She's been awake all night. She may have heard the commotion and is preparing a reception."

"I'll handle this." a regal looking woman in business attire said and moved past Jared and Kelv.

The woman proceeded to the bedroom door and knocked on it, "Beru? It's Kara. Let me in."

"Gena? Do they have you?" Astris called back, "Are they forcing you to do anything?"

Kara Gena laughed, "No one has me except for you, Beru. Let me in. We can talk."

"Just you." Astris counter-offered.

"I promise." Kara assured her. Kara unlatched the door and slowly swung it open, "See? I'm alone and unarmed."

The bedroom was dark and Kara called for the lights. Astris was crouched behind a hastily pulled out desk. In her hand she gripped a Militia issue phaser pistol. Upon seeing her lover, Astris sagged in relief.

"Come out from there, silly." Kara gently cajoled.

"What's going on?" Astris quizzically asked.

"We're going somewhere for a nice long chat." Kara replied.

Astris peered around Kara and saw armed men and women in her residence, "Are you part of this?"

Kara's laugh tinkled, "I'm their leader."

"So _we _were an illusion?" Astris was devastated.

Kara put a reassuring hand on Astris' shoulder, "I love you, Beru. That part is real enough. I just disagree with your policies and I think we need to get away from everyone and hammer out a few differences."

Astris shook her head in bewilderment, "I knew you were unhappy with some of my decisions, but to go to these lengths…? There are proper channels for this."

"We've tried proper channels." Kara sighed, "I've tried private ones as well. Changes need to be made and you need to see that. This will…enlighten you."

"Bajor's on a solid course." Astris argued, "We've a solid footing in intergalactic affairs."

"And it's that footing that we need to discuss." Kara smiled, "There's a New Order coming to the Federation. You can either be a part of it or be left behind."

"I don't understand." Astris shook her head.

"You will." Kara's smile was benign, "You will."

* * *

"Parva does not like having to fly commercial on a run as short as this one to Bajor." Rab Daggit tightly squeezed Brin Macen's shoulder as he growled in his Captain's ear.

"Is this complaint coming from Parva, or from you?" Macen calmly asked as he took another drink from his beverage.

Daggit hesitated in the face of his commander's unwavering gaze, "It's mostly me."

"Then take your hand off of my shoulder and get this through your head: Parva is no longer a member of the crew. She may be your wife, I was happy to perform the ceremony by the way, but she is _disabled_. She's content with her new life and you should be as well." Macen said severely, "I only allowed her to meet you here because this is supposed to be a routine information drop. That means most of you will do nothing while T'Kir and I do the real work."

"Don't forget your local Starfleet Security representative." Lt. Commander Ro Laren demanded.

"Calm down Laren." Macen rolled his eyes, "No one is forgetting your contribution, even though it basically seems to be drinking down ale on my tab."

"Everyone has something to offer." Ro shot back. Her jacket was unzipped and her uniform blouse was undone to her breastbone. Ro had definitely settled in to relax.

"But why does it have to be so much?" T'Kir, Macen's Vulcan wife, teased.

"I'm not talking to you." Ro huffed.

Neither Macen nor T'Kir represented the average member of their respective species. Macen was an El-Aurian. Rather than subscribe to the usual pacifism of his people, Macen believed that force was often necessary to insure the safety of others. This had led him to a career in Starfleet Intelligence's Special Investigations Division.

T'Kir originated from a Vulcan colony where emotional expression was not only allowed but encouraged. She'd met Macen after the Cardassians had decimated her homeworld and she had joined the Maquis. Starfleet had assigned Macen to infiltrate the rebel organisation and he had subsequently formed an intelligence gathering unit. Ro had assigned T'Kir to its ranks.

After the Dominion War, Macen had recruited T'Kir to his SID unit. Time elapsed and they formed a romantic entanglement. Eventually married, the now formed the nucleus of one of Starfleet's premier SID units. Their association had lasted for over a decade and they formed a formidable partnership.

Daggit apologetically released Macen's shoulder and straightened up. Macen was tall for a humanoid but Daggit towered over him. The only member of the team that met him eye to eye was Tom Riker. Daggit's hard eyes swept the interior of the pub they currently occupied.

The chosen location for the meet was a rather popular Bajoran public house. The band playing was an example of Bajor's current musical fad. Having discovered the musical styling of Earth's 1970's, the quartet singing emulated a Swedish super group from that era. The music wasn't bad. It was just different from what the SID personnel were used to.

"And I thought I was a connoisseur of ancient musical stylings." Macen commented to T'Kir.

T'Kir's smile was indulgent, "I kinda like it."

Macen nodded, "I have to admit it's growing on me." Glancing up at his vigilant Special Operations Specialist, Macen motioned for Daggit to lean down, "Take the night off, Rab. Parva is waiting for you at the Inn. Go and meet her."

Daggit frowned, "Are you certain?"

Macen emphatically nodded, "I've never been so sure of anything in my life."

Daggit brightly smiled, "Good evening then."

Daggit pushed his way through the dancers dominating the centre of the establishment. T'Kir leaned in, "You're sure that's smart?"

"What can happen that you, Ro, and I can't handle?" Macen grinned, "It'll be like old times."

"That's what I'm afraid of." T'Kir grumped.

Hannah Grace finished her whiskey and sat the glass down, "I'm afraid I have to turn in as well. I have a letter to record."

"Say 'Hi' to Ian Delaney for us." T'Kir grinned manically.

Grace reddened and frowned, "Are you sure you can't read my mind?"

T'Kir stuck out her tongue, "I don't have to. Your intentions are obvious. So what's your message about?"

"C'mon," Grace pleaded, "a little privacy please."

"That naughty, eh?" T'Kir grew more insistent.

"Ian and I are trying to coordinate our leave times so we can take a trip together. That's _all_."

"Yah yah." T'Kir waved the assertion aside, "We know the truth."

Grace rolled her eyes and huffed, "Good night everybody."

As she left, Macen scolded T'Kir, "You could have been nicer."

"Hannah's my best friend." T'Kir replied defensively, "She expects a little abuse."

"Her relationship with Delaney is still very tentative and young." Macen observed, "There's nothing concrete yet and Hannah is still unsure of her boundaries."

T'Kir pouted for a moment and then relented, "Okay. I'll apologise later."

Macen smiled, "That's a positive step. Not doing it again is another."

"Yes, Boss." T'Kir sighed, "Whatever you say Boss."

Ro laughed, "You two never change. This could have been a scene from a dozen years ago."

"Thank you. Thank you very much." T'Kir took a mock bow.

"And I see _you're _as humble as ever." Ro commented.

"Of course I am." T'Kir grinned, "This much perfection is a heavy burden to bear."

Ro rolled her eyes and Macen hefted his glass, "Let's have a drink in memory of our fallen Maquis comrades."

"I'll second that." Ro lifted her own mug, "To the most faithful soldiers we could have asked for."

They all clinked their glasses in the toast and took a pull of their individual beverages. While this was accomplished, the band stepped down and a second group took their place. This one was comprised of three brothers and their instrumentalists. They launched into a tune that soon seemed to revolve around staying alive.

A Vulcan traveller dressed in robes entered and approached the bar. Ordering a dark stout, the woman manoeuvred her way to Macen's table and came to stand before the assembled trio. She sat her drink down.

"May I sit here?"

"Actually, we're waiting for someone." Macen replied, "Sorry."

The "Vulcan" threw back her hood, revealing the features of Commander P'ris of the Romulan Tal Shiar. P'ris' laughter bubbled up, "I believe you are waiting for me, Commander."

"Oh boy." T'Kir remarked apprehensively, "This is going to get interesting."

P'ris took a seat unbidden. Folding her hands in front of her, she smiled, "I wish to assure you that there is no ill intent after our last meeting. You outwitted me. It is that simple."

P'ris' dark eyes glinted with humour. Her hair had grown out and now reached her shoulders in a mass of soft curls. Her wispy bangs reached her jawline and framed her heart shaped face.

P'ris studied her opposite numbers for a moment. Macen was fair skinned and fair haired. His red hair, moustache and goatee highlighted his blue-green eyes. He was from the northern climes of El-Auria and resembled an Earth-born Scandinavian.

T'Kir was atypical among Vulcans. Besides her full lipped, ready smile, her sapphire blue eyes and long, flowing raven hair belied Vulcan standards. Her olive complexion was an envy of many Terrans.

Ro was a striking woman. A strong jaw and cheekbones dominated her face. Her large brown eyes seemed to swallow one whole. Her dark hair was combed back and floated just above her shoulders.

"You know, P'ris," Macen broke the silence, "You could have used another contact other than Harry Mudd. Besides that, you could have told us you wanted to directly meet."

P'ris bit her lip, an unusual sign of trepidation from the audaciously confident agent, "I was not certain you would meet with me. Our last encounter left much to be desired."

Macen nodded, "All right. I concede that point. But Harry Mudd?"

P'ris smiled warmly, "It was something of a joke. Mudd once outwitted you. It seemed only fair to use him as an agent. We had detained him as a smuggler of ale and offered him the goods in exchange for his services."

Macen sighed, "Life will be so much easier when the Federation ends its prohibition of your native ale."

"I agree." P'ris nodded, "But enough pleasantries. I have business with you. It is time that I reveal my purpose for being here."

"That would be nice." Macen remarked dryly.

"My Service has learned that an organisation bent on reforming Federation policy is planning on kidnapping Bajor's planetary leader." P'ris divulged.

"We've just been through something like that with Cell 51." Macen countered, "It won't be repeated quite so soon."

"This movement is the brainchild of a world that has planted agents throughout Bajor, possibly a disaffected colony." P'ris elaborated.

Ro's comm badge went off and she slapped it, "Ro here."

"This is Midge." came the voice of her Militia liaison, "We have a situation that Starfleet needs to be informed of. I just heard you're on planet. Meet me at the Minister's Mansion."

"It has begun." P'ris murmured.

Ro frowned, "I'll be right over. Ro out." The link went dead and Ro turned to Macen, "Care to tag along? I'm sure it'll only be a matter of time before Admiral Drake calls you."

"You're probably right." Macen sighed, "Let me gather my troops."

"You've half an hour." Ro informed him, "I'll meet you at the Inn with ground transportation."

"Would you terribly mind if I accompanied you?" P'ris asked hopefully.

Ro shrugged and looked to Macen, "It's your call. I'm placing this case under SID jurisdiction."

"You don't even know if there is a case yet." Macen groaned.

"I'm just covering my bases." Ro insisted.

Macen turned to P'ris, "Okay. Meet us in front of the Inn of the Seventh Star in half an hour."

P'ris bowed her head slightly, "I will be there."

Macen rose and T'Kir joined him. "Ready to piss everyone off?" T'Kir asked.

Macen closed his eyes and shook his head, "This is going to be a long night. I just know it."

"Well lead on _Môn Capitiane_." T'Kir pushed him onward, "We've work to do."


	3. Chapter 3

29

Back at the Inn of the Seventh Star, Kort was enjoying a _raktajino_ by the blazing fire in the sitting room's hearth. He was catching up on his reading of the Starfleet Medical Journal. He'd just finished his third issue when a shadow fell across his lap. Kort looked up to see a bemused human brunette smiling down upon him.

"You must be a doctor." she observed whimsically, "It's either that or you have a very eclectic choice of reading material."

"I am a physician." Kort confirmed, "This is the first opportunity I have had for months to catch up on my reading."

"I know the feeling." the woman dug the latest copy of the SMJ out of her duffel, "My name is Hayley Galloway, by the way. I'm a doctor too. I just came back from eighteen months on Qo'noS and now I'm here on Bajor."

"You were in the Empire?" Kort asked wistfully.

"Yep." Galloway's head bobbed, "I was helping set up a new university program."

"How did you find Klingon medicine?" an amused Kort enquired.

"It's very…abrupt." Galloway replied diplomatically.

"It is indeed." Kort chuckled, "My patients still find my bedside manner to be too rough."

"But you're reviewing Starfleet medical practices and you're on Bajor." Galloway didn't quite ask, "And you're not wearing IDF armour. I'd say you're attached to Starfleet in some way."

"In a manner of speaking." Kort replied warily, "I am an employee of Outbound Ventures, Inc. Our largest client is Starfleet."

"I've heard of Outbound Ventures." Galloway admitted, "Your reputation for excellence proceeds you."

"How would you like a drink?" Kort offered, "The café here is excellent."

"High praise coming from a Klingon." Galloway laughed and shifted her shoulder strap, "I don't need to be in my room for awhile so I'll accept. Lead on, kind sir."

* * *

Grace typed in the comm code and anxiously awaited the response of the _USS Intrepid's _communications officer. The officer kindly routed Grace's signal to Delaney's location. Delaney appeared on screen. He looked wet and there was a sunny sky behind him.

"Hannah!" Delaney said happily.

"`Lo Ian." Grace happily smiled, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You just caught me on the holodeck." Delaney revealed, "I'm learning to sail. What do you think about sailing the Caribbean when we take leave?"

"Sounds good." Grace excitedly agreed, "I didn't know you have a boat."

"I don't." Delaney replied, "Emily does."

"Emily?" Grace asked suspiciously.

"Ensign Emily Johnson of Engineering." Delaney answered, "You've met her."

"Yes." Grace conceded, "She fixed my shuttle."

"She's teaching me to sail and is willing to loan me her boat." Delaney elaborated.

"Do you want to sleep with her?" Grace blurted.

"What?" Delaney was shocked, "Where did that come from?"

Grace laughed, "It's no business of mine if you want to, or do it. I'm just figuring out where I stand."

"You wouldn't care?" Delaney repeated in disbelief.

"I'd be disappointed but it would clarify our situation." Grace explained, "We've made no promises and made no pledges to one another. We're each free to do what we want."

"This conversation is getting very weird." Delaney looked bewildered, "Does this mean that you want to sleep with someone?"

"Not at the moment." Grace confessed, "But that situation may arise and I just wanted to make certain you'd be prepared for it."

"Okay." Delaney nodded, "I'm duly warned. What about our leave together?"

"It looks like I can take leave in two months." Grace happily informed him.

"Same here." Delaney smiled, "I think you'll enjoy sailing. It's a kick."

"Looking forward to it." Grace admitted, "I'll keep writing you and sending you messages until then."

"And that gives me something extra to look forward to." Delaney grinned.

"Flatterer." Grace retorted, "You're already trying to charm me."

"As long as it keeps you in touch, I'll try anything." Delaney revealed.

"I'll see you soon, Ian." Grace said and signed off.

As the screen darkened, Grace leaned back in her chair. She'd spoken the truth to Delaney. They'd made no promises and that left the field open. The ball was now in Delaney's court. She'd wait and see what he'd do with it.

* * *

"So Johns Hopkins sent me to Qo'noS. Now I'm on Bajor to instruct Sinherra University's surgical unit on the latest techniques coming out of the rest of the Federation." Galloway explained between sips of her spring wine.

"You must be very talented." Kort observed, "To be entrusted with so much is an honour."

"I'd shuck all this honour for a chance to sit at home for a month and do nothing." Galloway wistfully admitted.

Kort grunted, "I've spent the last three months doing next to nothing. A challenge would be a welcome relief about now."

"We've discussed my career," Galloway shifted gears, "what about you? You're a doctor with a security consulting firm. What kind of assignments do you accept?"

"We are an investigative unit." Kort vaguely answered.

"What kind of investigations?" Galloway pressed.

"_Special _investigations." Kort offered.

Galloway frowned, "I take it you can't, or won't, talk about it."

Kort smiled, "Something like that."

"Figures." Galloway grumped.

Just then, Macen and T'Kir entered the café. T'Kir stormed up to Kort and Galloway's table. Macen travelled in her wake.

"Hi!" T'Kir said chipperly and thrust out her hand towards Galloway, "I'm sure Kort hasn't mentioned me yet. In fact, I know he hasn't. I'm T'Kir."

Galloway accepted T'Kir's grip, "Hello, I'm…"

"Hayley Galloway, doctor at large. Yah yah." T'Kir released Galloway's hand and planted her fists on her hips, "Anything you want to know, anything Kort's not telling you, ask me."

"Well," Galloway said uncomfortably, "we have reached an impasse or two."

"But you haven't discussed what you _really_ want to know." T'Kir grinned manically and leaned over to whisper in Galloway's ear. Galloway turned a brilliant scarlet. Macen took hold of T'Kir's waist and pulled her away.

"You'll have to forgive her." Macen offered a wan smile, "She's an escaped mental patient."

"It's true." T'Kir giddily confessed and jerked a thumb in Macen's direction, "He broke me out."

"Kort," Macen refocused the group, "we're going active. Meet us in front of the Inn in twenty minutes. Be equipped for anything."

"As you say." Kort nodded, "I will be there."

"Now to bug Hannah." T'Kir announced and happily bounced off.

Macen sighed and shook his head, "It's one of those days."

As Macen walked off, Galloway fixed a wide-eyed stare on Kort, "What was _that_?"

Kort's head hung low, "That was T'Kir."

"A friend of yours?"

Kort snorted, "Hardly. She is a shipmate and the Captain's wife."

"So that was your Captain?" Galloway inquired.

"Yes." Kort still looked pained, "As you can see, he has difficulty with her as well."

"How did she know…never mind what she knew but _how _did she know?" Galloway demanded.

"T'Kir is a Class 4 telepath." Kort replied wearily.

"My God." Galloway breathed, "I knew it was theoretically possible but I never imagined I'd meet one. How does she function? What's her range?"

"She could read every mind in this solar system if left untreated." Kort revealed, "She functions as an individual because we medicate her in order to curb her abilities. Unfortunately, she is growing resistant to the treatments."

"Have you sought outside help yet?" Galloway was concerned.

"Not yet." Kort admitted.

"I'd be happy to help." Galloway offered, "If only to prevent someone else from going through what I just did."

"I apologise for that." Kort said sincerely.

Galloway shrugged, "Wasn't your fault. I'm guessing you're running out of time though."

Kort heaved a heavy sigh, "I am indeed. I'd like to call on you while you are staying here."

Galloway laughed, "I'd like that. I'll be staying here throughout my tenure on Bajor. And, by the way, my name is Hayley. Feel free to use it."

Kort smiled, "I will. Until later, Hayley."

"I suppose this is another case you won't be able to talk about?" Galloway asked.

Kort shrugged, "I have no idea."

"Scoot." Galloway ordered, "I don't want you getting in trouble on my account."

Kort gratefully bowed his head and departed. Galloway swirled her spring wine and took another drink. Kort was definitely a mystery and she loved mysteries. Getting to know him would prove to be fun.

* * *

High above Bajor, the _Nova_-class _SS Obsidian_ sat in standard orbit. The surveyor was the pride of Outbound Ventures fledgling fleet. Given to OV by the SID, it was Macen's command. Sitting in the command chair was her 1st Officer, Tom Riker.

Riker was the transporter doppelganger of Captain Will Riker. Tom had chosen several hard roads in pursuing a separate identity. He'd joined the Maquis and later Macen's SID team. Both had carried high personal costs. Riker had found contentment in his present post and despite Macen's encouragement to accept his own command Riker wouldn't be budged.

"Captain Macen is calling." the rating at the Tactical station reported. Riker exchanged a bemused glance with Shannon Forger, the ship's Executive Officer.

"Open a channel, Darnell." Riker ordered, "Captain? This is unexpected."

"Unexpected things happen." Macen soberly replied, "Have Lees, Joachim and Radil beam down to our location. They need to be fully kitted out."

Riker frowned, "What can they expect?"

"A potential Ministerial kidnapping." Macen answered.

"There hasn't been anything on local traffic about a kidnapping." Riker informed him.

"My guess is that the Militia is keeping a pretty tight lid on the situation." Macen opined, "Remember, Bajor's security organs have a greater degree of control over the press than the average Federation planet."

"Seems to be working." Riker grunted.

"Just get them down here and I'll get you more answers." Macen promised.

"I'm on it." Riker assured him.

* * *

Joachim Dracas, the _Obsidian's _Chief Engineer and the Engineering Specialist for the SID team, stepped out of the sonic shower and began dressing. The _Obsidian _had undergone an overhaul recently but the ship hadn't truly been tested until recently when the ship engaged several raiders. That encounter had revealed several faulty components. Most of the repairs had been filthy ordeals.

Dracas was using part of his administrative time to shower and change into a clean set of coveralls. He'd just pulled on a black tee shirt over his well toned torso when the comm panel started beeping. Dracas pulled up his coveralls and tied the arms about his waist. He placed his comm badge on his left breast as he neared the comm panel.

Dracas tapped a control, "Dracas here."

"Message for you, sir. Should I route it to your quarters?"

"Yes." Dracas replied with a hint of irritation, "I will accept the message."

Dracas sat down before the panel and activated the viewer. The image coalesced into a view of a Trill male that was roughly ten years older than Dracas. Dracas found him quite handsome but his wide-eyed look of shock alerted Dracas to potential danger.

"Can I help you?" he asked as politely as he could.

"By the Pools." The Trill breathed, "You even _sound _like him."

Dracas' ire was raised, "I sound like whom?"

"Hal Dracas." the Trill replied, "The man you were cloned from. Your face is different but Hal had had cosmetic surgery."

"Who are you?" Dracas impatiently demanded. Joachim Dracas was indeed a clone of Hal Dracas. The Nova Romans of Magna Roma had sampled Dracas' DNA while he was their prisoner and had produced Joachim. Raised as a Roman soldier, Dracas had recently been assigned to the _Obsidian_ by his Emperor.

Dracas had undertaken a personal quest to learn all that he could of his progenitor in order to learn what kind of heritage he'd inherited. He'd read Hal's logs and reports but that had left him sadly lacking in personal details. The SID team had regaled him with remembrances and they had closed that gap somewhat. Now it seemed he had the opportunity to talk to someone who knew Hal Dracas well.

"Forgive me." the Trill bowed his head, "My name is Kiv Rever. I was Hal's partner. We'd even discussed marriage shortly before his death. I'm the reason why he's dead."

That heavy announcement left Dracas speechless so Rever continued, "Captain Macen told me of your existence and of your quest to get to know Hal. He thought it might be cathartic for me to describe Hal's life to you."

"What did you mean you were responsible for his death?" Dracas asked through a tight throat.

Rever looked anguished, "I supplied the information Solarian Security Systems used to report him to the Troglyte authorities. I didn't murder him myself but I was a pawn used to that effect."

Dracas' comm badge chirped and he angrily swatted it, "Dracas!"

"Easy Chief." Riker replied calmly, "You're needed for a mission. Suit up and be at the transporter room in ten minutes."

Dracas sighed. Duty called and could not be ignored, "I will be there."

"It sounds like you have to go." Rever said sadly, "I've attached our…I mean, my address to this message. Use it to find me the next time you're on Earth. We can begin our talks then."

"I shall." Dracas promised, "I look forward to meeting you Mr. Rever."

"Please," Rever almost pleaded, "call me Kiv. We're practically family. If things had gone as planned I would be your 'stepdad' now."

Dracas nodded, "I am Joachim."

Rever offered a wan smile, "A good strong name. Hal would have been pleased."

"I must go now." Dracas informed Rever.

"Of course. Rever out." The transmission ended and Dracas stared at the blank screen. He wasn't certain how he should feel about this opportunity. His progenitor's partner? Dracas had known that Hal Dracas had left no reference to a partner. This would be an interesting meeting indeed.

Dracas rose and continued putting his coveralls on. Next he strapped on his armour. Lastly, he put on his gunbelt and sword. That completed, he exited his quarters and headed for the transporter.

* * *

Lisea Danan's brow furrowed in concentration. The Trill scientist was composing her final paper on the ultramatter the crew had encountered during their last encounter with the Omicron. The Omicron had used the metamorphic properties of the primordial substance to assist in their engineering of biotechnology. A fragment of the original "egg" that birthed the universe, the ultramatter could shape virtually anything when certain types of energy were applied to it.

Danan brushed a loose strand of chestnut coloured hair out of her eyes. Her sea-green eyes narrowed as she reviewed her last sentence. It seemed lacking and her lips twisted in frustration. Her comm badge chose that moment to chirp.

She slapped it, "What?"

"Lees?" Riker sounded uncharacteristically uncertain, "Is something wrong?"

"Just a million little things." Danan sighed and then more hopefully asked, "Is this strictly a social call?"

Riker sounded rueful, "I'm afraid not. This is business. Brin needs you on the surface."

"For what?" Danan demanded, "Bajor has plenty of scientists."

"All I know is that it involves a kidnapping." Riker explained, "The Captain wants you fully equipped."

Danan relented slightly, "All right. I'll gather my equipment. How much time do I have?"

"Ten minutes." Riker answered, "And then you beam down."

"Great." Danan remarked sourly, "Danan out."

* * *

"Riker to Radil." the 1st Officer said for his comm badge. He waited and then repeated the call. There was no reply.

"Computer," Riker said irritably, "locate Security Chief Radil."

"Security Chief Radil is not aboard." the computer's feminine voice replied.

"Riker to Telrik."

"Telrik here." the Tellarite Transporter Chief replied.

"Where is Radil?" Riker's temper was flaring.

"Chief Radil beamed down to join the others at Sinherra two hours ago."

"On whose authority?" Riker grated.

"Yours."

Riker's veins bulged. In a very controlled voice, he issued orders, "Lock on to her location. Beam her aboard when I arrive at the transporter room."

"Aye air." Telrik said agreeably.

"I'll kill her." Riker announced to no one in particular.

"That'd be a shame." Forger commented, "It would take a while to train a replacement."

"Dracas stepped into Parva's shoes didn't he?" Riker asked, "Maybe we'll find a clone of Radil."

"Doubtful." Forger looked pensive.

"All right." Riker conceded, "I'll just maim her."

"That's the spirit." Forger smiled, "Always let them live."

"Tell me something, Shannon." Riker instructed, "Were you once a cheerleader?"

"Does pep squad count?" Forger enquired.

Riker groaned, "That's what I thought. You have the bridge. Just don't lead a cheer while I'm gone."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Forger beamed mischievously.

"Better yet, go back to bed." Riker suggested, "Your shift doesn't start for another six hours."

"And miss all the fun?"

"What fun?" Riker demanded to know, "We're in orbit."

"I'm waiting for you to start torturing wayward crewmembers." Forger laughed, "Then I'll go to bed."

Riker's head hung low, "I'm going now."

"See you and good luck." Forger called out before the turbolift doors closed.

* * *

Radil Jenrya stopped before the Monument of the Sinherran Massacre. On that day over seven hundred Bajorans had been put to death by the Cardassian authorities. It had all been precipitated by a Resistance cell seizing control of the city's administrative centre. Radil had been a teenaged member of that cell and had lived through these events.

Radil felt sorrow over the slayings but she'd never felt guilt. It had been the Cardassians' decision to slaughter civilians. Radil laid a lilac down before the monument. She wore the traditional red shawl and headscarf of mourning.

Tears came to her deep brown eyes as she began to be flooded with memories of that day. The Tranjaar cell had accessed the ancient sewer tunnels running throughout Sinherra. They came up through the floor into the administrative centre. They took the civil servants and collaborators hostage.

After several hours of negotiations, the Prefect of Bajor, Gul Skrain Dukat decided that the cell would be persuaded by mass executions. The cell responded by executing hostages. Dukat decided that the Cardassian civilians were expendable and an assault started.

The Tranjaar tried to hold but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Volunteers offered to stay behind and torch the building while the others escaped. It was a suicide mission and all knew it. The Bajoran defenders died fighting.

The administrative centre was still a fire gutted ruin. The Cardassians never bothered to rebuild it and the Bajorans saw it as a shrine. The monument had been built to honour both the massacre victims and the fallen Resistance fighters. This was the first opportunity Radil had ever had to visit the shrine and pay homage to her comrades.

Radil's pilgrimage was cut short as she felt the familiar tug of the transporter. Swearing, her vision blurred as she dematerialised. Her world reformed in the _Obsidian's _main transporter room. Telrik looked nervous as Riker stood beside him looking incensed.

"Why the hell did you beam me back aboard?" Radil demanded. She pulled her scarf off and ran a hand through her short auburn hair.

"What the hell do _you _think you're doing leaving the ship without permission?" Riker raised his voice in anger.

"What was the point of staying?" Radil remarked, "We're safely in orbit and I had a spiritual pilgrimage to complete."

"As much as I respect your religious beliefs, you need to check in with me before leaving the ship." Riker fumed.

"What harm was done?" Radil wondered.

"The Captain has need of you. You have five minutes to prepare and report to this transporter room." Riker growled.

"We have a case?" Radil asked incredulously.

Riker nodded, "You'd better hurry. You don't have any time to waste."

"All right." Radil moved off the transporter pad and headed for the door, "I'll see you in a minute."

Riker waited for several minutes before following Radil out. Once in the deserted corridor, he let loose a torrent of the foulest Klingon curses he knew. Having verbally exploded, he straightened his flightsuit and proceeded to the turbolift. He'd be happier once Radil and the others were safely off.

He entered the lift and wondered what Forger would have to say. Riker discovered he didn't care. He was ordering her to go to bed. That would silence her.


	4. Chapter 4

43

Radil, Danan and Dracas transported down outside of the Inn of the Seventh Star. Radil had changed into her black Special Operations Battledress fatigues from the 2290's with a charcoal grey turtleneck underneath. Radil wore her gunbelt as well. She was also cradling a Bajoran phaser rifle.

Danan wore her Sciences blue coveralls with her utility belt around her waist. She carried a grip filled with specialised sensors. Dracas also carried a case filled with equipment. They glanced about, wondering where Macen, T'Kir, Daggit, Kort and Grace were.

Macen and T'Kir stepped out of the Inn. Macen wore black SOB's with a grey crewnecked shirt underneath. His Bajoran phaser pistol was strapped low on his right leg.

T'Kir wore black leather pants and mid-calf boots. Her top was a forest green zippered front fleece. Her pistol was strapped low on her left leg. Her hair was pulled back into a tail and her eyes were alert and merry.

Kort exited next. He wore his customary suit of Klingon armour. He had a medkit slung off his shoulder and his phaser on his waist. He also had a knife shoved into a boot.

Daggit and Parva left together. Daggit kissed his Orion wife and then she re-entered the Inn. Daggit wore M.A.C.O. fatigues. He carried a grenade launcher in addition to his pistol.

Grace was the last to exit. She wore her flightsuit. Her utility belt and phaser were worn high on her hips. She wore a vaguely disappointed expression.

"Why do I have to go back to the ship?" she complained, "I _always _have to go back to the ship."

"To be blunt, Hannah," Macen sighed, "your skill set isn't required here. You're a pilot, not an investigator."

"So train me." Grace urged, "I'm willing."

"Maybe later." Macen considered her proposal, "Now's not the time though."

"Now is not the time for what?" P'ris asked as she strode towards them. She wore black leather pants, a grey tunic and a long, black leather duster.

"She gets to go?" Grace exclaimed, "I get stuck on the ship and _she _gets to go?"

"Hannah…" Macen began to explain.

"You stole my coat!" T'Kir accused.

"You knew when it was given to you that it was standard Tal Shiar issue." P'ris countered, "I am Tal Shiar, so I wear it when the mood strikes."

"It isn't fair." T'Kir pouted, "That's _my _look."

"So I have heard." P'ris remarked dryly.

"She's doing this on purpose." T'Kir complained to Macen, "Make her change her clothes."

Macen rolled his eyes, "She's staying dressed just the way she is. Deal with it."

T'Kir stuck out her tongue, "Some loving husband you are."

Macen was about to reply when a large vehicle with wheels in front and treads on the back came lumbering up. It mounted a phaser cannon atop the cab. The technology was so retrograde that it had to date back to the beginning of the Cardassian occupation.

The driver's side door swung open and Ro leaned out, "So what are you waiting for? Climb aboard!"

"Laren, what is that thing?" Macen called back.

"I don't know what the spoonheads called it but it's become known as a half-track." Ro explained, "Are you getting on board or not?"

Macen sighed, "All right people. Mount up."

Macen and T'Kir proceeded to the cab and climbed in. The others went to the cargo area and boarded it. Bench seating was provided behind the armoured sides. Daggit inspected the phaser cannon as the half-track lurched forward.

"Seems to be in decent shape." then he sat down, "This must have been a riot control vehicle. It's too lightly armoured to be a heavy combatant. However, it would easily withstand small arms fire."

"Spare me." Radil growled, "I've seen these in action. They're deadly enough."

Daggit turned silent. He minded the scenery around him, what little that could be seen. They were leaving the city and headed down the road. The Ministerial Mansion was located in the nearby capital and that was their destination.

* * *

Meanwhile, Grace watched them go off into the distance. Forlornly, she tapped her comm badge and requested to be beamed back aboard the _Obsidian_. She sighed as she felt the transporter's effect take hold.

Grace stepped off of the transporter pad and greeted Telrik as cheerfully as she could. Her belongings were still in her room at the Inn so she assumed she'd be returning there eventually. She checked the ship's clock and discovered that the alpha shift was almost half over. That meant she'd be relieving Ceryx at the helm.

_Manning the helm in orbit is sooo boring._ Grace mentally complained. She longed for a fast paced combat manoeuvre or threading through a dense asteroid field at high speeds. _Anything but the monotony of endless orbit after endless orbit._ She dreaded stagnation.

Grace was a daredevil by nature and inclination. That was why she'd accepted her people's mission to infiltrate the Federation. She'd earned the highly dangerous and coveted assignment of entering Starfleet. Later, as a natural extension of her temperament and duplicitous nature, Section 31 had recruited her. S31 had assigned her to infiltrate Macen's investigative team and she'd done so without reservation.

Betrayed by S31, her cover blown, she'd turned to Macen for help. He'd extended her the currency of trust. She'd betrayed that again when she'd acted against the crew at the behest of her people, the Kelvans. Forced by her superiors to choose between remedial punishment or to stay with the life she knew and opt to explore her "humanity", she chose to stay.

Having regained the trust of her teammates, Grace felt as at home with them as she did with her own natural family. That was why she hated getting left behind on assignments. She felt useless and helpless to affect a positive outcome for her friends.

She entered the turbolift and exited it on the bridge. Riker greeted her and she nodded in his direction. Riker had been the hardest to convince that she really had changed her ways. She'd once altered his memory to protect her identity and mission. Forgiveness had been slow in coming.

She tapped Ceryx on his plated shoulder and he smiled at her. Apparently his boredom with orbital maintenance was manifest as well. He gladly rose out of the station's seat and backed away. Grace sat down and waited for the mind numbing sameness of it all to overwhelm her.

* * *

"What do we know so far?" Macen asked Ro as the half-track trudged along. It wasn't the swiftest of vehicles. Ro had already explained that it was the only troop carrier the Sinherran Constabulary had been willing to release. T'Kir had already made several colourful comments about that situation.

"We know this _frinxing _vehicle is an uncomfortable bastard." T'Kir bemoaned.

Ro ignored the comment, "So far the Militia has reported the apparent kidnapping of Astris Beru."

Macen whistled, "The 1st Minister herself. The stakes are high."

"That's why the Militia is cutting us in." Ro explained, "The Militia and Constabulary are very stiff necked when it comes to jurisdiction. There's a lot of pride involved. Most of the high ranking Militia officers refused Starfleet commissions in order to remain with local planetary defence."

"And they'll be afraid Starfleet will step on their toes and steal their thunder." Macen surmised.

Ro wore a grim smile, "Exactly."

"I'm assuming that the security detailed was killed or stunned." Macen revealed.

"Stunned apparently." Ro confirmed.

"Is everyone accounted for?" Macen asked in a placid tone.

Ro frowned, "A couple of officers appear to be missing. Why?"

"Have they revived the stunned personnel?" Unfazed, Macen continued his inquiry.

"They're starting to at last report." Ro was growing irritated, "Why? Do you think this is an inside job?"

Macen pursed his lips before answering, "It's always a possibility in cases like this."

Ro tapped her comm badge, "Ro to Midge."

"Midge here." came the liaison's reply, "How can I help you Commander?"

"Give me a situation report." Ro insisted.

"Sorry, Ro." Midge sounded guilty, "General Tannit has cut off all information. This situation is now classified."

"We'll see about that when I get there." Ro snapped, "Ro out!"

"Pompous jackass." Ro snarled, "Who does he think he is, trying to cut off my access?"

"You said it yourself," Macen gently reminded her, "it's a matter of pride."

"We'll see about that." Ro grew more incensed and tapped her comm badge again, "Ro to Vaughn."

The signal was routed through the Militia's subspace relay and received by _Deep Space 9_. Commander Elias Vaughn was her XO. He was also a veteran of Starfleet's Special Operations division. He was over a hundred years old and had spent nearly eighty of those years in Spec Ops.

"Vaughn here." came Vaughn's wry reply, "I assume you're calling regarding the ministerial kidnapping."

"Damn straight I am." Ro growled.

"The Captain is on the horn trying to regain Starfleet's access to the situation." Vaughn informed her, "I assume Macen's with you?"

Vaughn and Macen had known each other for most of their respective Starfleet careers. There were decades of mutual respect and trust between them. Vaughn had been one of those responsible for Macen's "third option" of becoming a privateer in the employ of the SID after Macen's court-martial for disobeying a direct order from a superior officer. The charges of murder had been dropped by that time but Macen was convicted on the charge of insubordination.

"Yes." Ro calmed somewhat, "He's here."

"Good for you." Vaughn verbally applauded her, "Tell Brin that Admiral Drake has been apprised of the developing situation and will be contacting him shortly with instructions."

Ro glanced over at Macen. Macen wore a wry smile. T'Kir's rolled her eyes at the news. Ro's own smile was wintry.

"He's so advised."

"Good." Vaughn sounded relieved, "Wish him luck since I expect this entire mess is about to get dropped in his lap."

Macen's squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Ro actually chuckled, "He understands. He'll be waiting for that call."

"I'm sure he will." Vaughn remarked dryly, "Carry on Commander. Vaughn out."

"Elias has always had a gift for understatement." Macen sighed, "This political hot potato is going to ruin careers."

"We're screwed." T'Kir muttered.

"Aren't you glad you're a private contractor and not regular Starfleet?" Ro asked dryly.

"Thrilled." Macen remarked ruefully.

"We're sooo screwed." T'Kir amended.

"Well, we're almost there so get ready for a fight." Ro advised.

* * *

The half-track rumbled up to the gates of the Ministerial Mansion. A dozen Militia officers in burgundy or grey uniforms stood post. They were all armed with pistols and rifles. A major approached the driver's side door and climbed up to speak to Ro.

"This is a Militia matter." the major said, "Starfleet's presence isn't required."

Ro's eyes narrowed as she stared into the other woman's eyes, "I think you'll find your orders have changed. Contact General Tannit and confirm this."

"I don't need to confirm anything." the major protested.

"Humour me." Ro insisted.

"Very well." the major conceded and jumped off the half-track's running board. Once she was on the ground, she tapped her comm badge and began an earnest conversation with the recipient of the call. A moment later, a slightly wide-eyed major pulled herself up to Ro's window.

"I don't know who you know but you've been granted access." she informed Ro.

"Thank you." Ro replied dryly and started the vehicle forward through the gates. She parked the half-track alongside a row of Militia vehicles. They were a mixture of abandoned Cardassian ground vehicles and modern Bajoran aircars. Setting the brake, Ro, Macen, and T'Kir exited the cab while others jumped out of the rear compartment.

A Militia lieutenant approached the assembled group. He hesitated upon seeing P'ris amongst their midst. Ro moved in front of him and held her arms akimbo, fists on her hips.

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?" she demanded.

"Yes, sir!" the Militia lieutenant replied, "Er, ma'am."

"And what would that be?" Ro asked scornfully.

"Her!" the young man pointed, "I mean, there's an enemy agent among you."

"I wasn't aware of any hostilities between the Romulan Star Empire and the Federation." Ro said drolly, "In fact, the peace talks have gone surprisingly well ever since they assisted against Cell 51's coup d'état."

"Yes, ma'am." the boy's head bobbed, "It's just that…"

"She's my responsibility." Ro assured him, "General Tannin can take it up with me."

"Yes, ma'am!" the lieutenant blurted in obvious relief, "If you'll all follow me."

* * *

The lieutenant led them inside the mansion's front door. Inside, they passed a security booth. Several constables were gathered around. Two were inside the booth reviewing scan logs. Two bewildered looking men sat drinking spice tea. Two more constables stood poised over them with padds ready, asking questions.

"It was Kelv." one of the men insisted, "Why would we suspect him?"

The team moved on. Everywhere Constables and Militia personnel were interrogating recently revived security guards. The lieutenant wove his way around them and led the team to the Minister's Residence. Macen noted a security keypad on the outside of the door as they passed by and entered the Residence. Inside, two women and a man were being questioned.

"Jared Kilj was my partner. I never expected him to incapacitate me during an attack on the 1st Minister." Leto Fira stated to her interrogator. The woman turned to the gate guards, "And you say that the attackers wore Bajoran Militia issue ablative armour?"

"Yes." the female guard answered, "They wore riot helmets so I didn't get a look at their faces but everything they wore and carried was Militia issue."

A stern faced older man wearing general's insignia stood by and listened in on these reports. A constable deputy entered and reported to the general, "Several of the security agents report seeing an unarmed woman in business attire trailing the assault force."

"Have they ID'd her?" General Tannin enquired.

"Not positively." the deputy replied, "But there are several tentative identifications of her being Kara Gena, the Legal Minister. She was a frequent visitor of the 1st Minister." the deputy lowered his voice and leaned in towards the General, "They were lovers, sir."

Tannin nodded, "Understood." Tannin turned and saw the SID team for the first time. His expression soured, "I take it these are our esteemed 'colleagues' Lieutenant?"

The young officer's head bobbed, "Yessir."

"You're dismissed." Tannin said gruffly, "Assist Major Hure at the main gate."

"Yes sir." the lieutenant said eagerly and exited the Residence.

Tannin's eyes drifted over the team and came to rest on Ro, "You're Commander Ro, the Security Chief aboard _DS9_?"

"Yes sir." Ro respectfully replied.

"You used to be under my command until you transferred to Starfleet?"

"Yes, sir."

"Harrumph." Tannin replied distastefully and his eyes drifted to Macen, "And you're Captain Brin Macen?"

"Yes, I am." Macen replied confidently.

Tannin moved in and stared Macen down, "You don't easily bend do you?"

Macen levelly met Tannin's gaze, "Nope."

Tannin smiled thinly, "Good. I can respect that. I understand you're not with Starfleet. You're a private agent reporting to the SID?"

"That about sums it up." Macen answered stoically.

"You should be getting a call any minute that's going to offend me further." Tannin revealed, "I've already spoken with your Admiral Drake. I can't say I'm very happy with the results so far."

On cue, Macen's comm badge chirped. He tapped it on its position on his belt, "Macen here."

"Riker here. You have a priority message from Admiral Drake's office. Should I relay it?"

"Yes." Macen replied, "I'll take it here."

There was a moment's silence and then Admiral Drake's voice rang through, "Brin?"

"`Lo Amanda." Macen grinned, "How's the weather in England?"

"Terrible." Drake replied ruefully, "What's the situation there?"

"Compromised." Macen's grin faded and he became sombre, "Militia officers were involved with the kidnapping and this investigation team may have been infiltrated as well."

"Here now…" Tannin began to sputter.

"Take over." Drake ordered, "You have jurisdiction. General Tannin can file whatever protest he wants."

"Understood." Macen nodded, "Macen out."

Tannin stood by, silently livid. Macen met his glare with a calm gaze, "Your people will turn over any and all reports they have made, any statements taken and any records of any scans performed. They will then vacate the Mansion. Your troops will hold the perimeter."

"Anything else?" Tannin grated.

"The witnesses will gather in the Mansion's lobby and wait for their earlier statements to be reviewed." Macen instructed, "You will compile a list of Militia personnel who have not reported to their posts or are AWOL. The kidnappers must have used a vehicle to arrive here."

"A Militia troop transport." Tannin growled.

"Have you tracked down where it came from?" Macen enquired.

"We're working on it." Tannin spat.

"Report the results as soon as you get them." Macen ordered.

"Will that be all?" Tannin growled.

"Compile a list of all departing ships since the attack. I want their filed flight plans and actual vectors plotted." Macen added, "Send the results to my helm officer aboard the _Obsidian_."

"Will that be all?" Tannin asked sarcastically, "Perhaps you'd enjoy the company of Quark's _dabo_ girls as well. Or perhaps you'd like drinks and refreshments served?"

"I think we can manage." Macen remarked dryly, "Thank you for your cooperation."

"What choice do I have?" Tannin said begrudgingly, "Come on people. Let's give the so-called specialists room to work."

The Bajoran personnel filed out of the room and Macen addressed the SID team, "Lees, you and Kort will begin making forensic scans of this room and the outer hallway. T'Kir, start with the security booth. See if there's any back-up systems or backdoors that monitored the kidnapping. Joachim, inspect the vehicle the kidnappers arrived in. See if they modified it in any way or left a message behind."

"You think they'd use the lorry for that?" Dracas asked.

Macen nodded, "It's the only material evidence that they left behind. I'm willing to bet it holds the answer to a lot of questions. Either Kort or Lisea will be along later to conduct a forensic scan."

Macen turned to Daggit and Radil, "Inspect the reports given by the security detail. Verify any unusual or suspicious facts with them."

Daggit, Radil and Dracas all exited the room and that left P'ris to deal with. She wore an ironic smile, "And what of me?"

"You and I are going to have a nice chat." Macen said firmly, "You know more than you've let on so far and I want to know what that is."

P'ris spread her hands wide, "But I have been completely transparent with you, Commander."

"We'll see." Macen said coldly, his eyes narrowing.

P'ris looked slightly afraid. She had reason to be.


	5. Chapter 5

59

"Now Commander," Macen growled, "you will kindly reveal all that you know regarding this case and tell me how you obtained this information."

"You do not honestly expect me to give up valued sources in the Federation?" P'ris asked scornfully, "Would you do the same?"

"I don't want your sources' names or whereabouts." Macen clarified, "Generalise. You're good at it."

"I don't know what I can recall…" P'ris hedged.

"You can do this with me or I can have T'Kir rip it out of your mind." Macen coldly offered, "Choose."

P'ris looked daunted, "You would not dare."

"How many times do I have to remind people that I'm not Starfleet?" Macen asked with a dangerous edge, "Desperation can, and will, drive me to measures that a Starfleet officer wouldn't consider."

"You would consider yourself to be desperate?" P'ris was intrigued.

"Commander, do you or do you not agree that the Legal Minister was behind this kidnapping?"

A slight smile played across P'ris' lips, "I would but not all of the facts are in yet."

"But would it fit the information you have?" Macen inquired.

Slowly, P'ris nodded, "It would indeed."

"Tell me." Macen urged.

P'ris shifted her weight uncomfortably, "It was difficult enough to obtain permission to disclose what I have already. I am unsure of the breadth of my discretionary authority."

"Roll the dice." Macen demanded, "It's time to play or leave the game entirely."

P'ris' mouth worked but no sound came out. Macen's right eyebrow quirked, "Do I call for T'Kir?"

P'ris shook her head and swallowed hard, "You are most persuasive, Commander."

"For the last time, I'm no longer Starfleet. It's not 'Commander' any more." Macen sighed, "I'm _Captain_ of the _Obsidian_."

"Very well." P'ris barely nodded, "You have convinced me to cooperate, Captain. What do you desire to know?"

"Is this attack part of a larger scheme?" Macen asked.

"Yes." P'ris was still restrained, "That is our information."

"Is this part of a movement?" P'ris nodded so Macen continued, "Is this movement interstellar?"

P'ris hesitated. Macen's hand drifted to his comm badge. P'ris' eyes narrowed and her lips twisted in a savage snarl.

"Yes, damn you!" P'ris yelled, "We intercepted an arms shipment being transported to one of your citizens. The weapons were earmarked for distribution to a widespread political movement. Many in the Tal Shiar still hold the Federation as enemies so the shipment was sent on its way."

"But your government assisted us during Cell 51's coup." Macen protested.

P'ris shrugged, "We knew what Cell 51's intentions towards the Star Empire were. They were a threat and they were dealt with as such."

"And you don't feel that way about this group?" Macen was growing frustrated with P'ris' answers.

P'ris shrugged, "We know nothing of this group. This so-called New Order movement is virtually nonexistent according to our known intelligence. It was felt by some that a little disturbance within your borders would make you more amiable at the negotiating table. Unfortunately that view prevailed until I was able to convince the Senate to allow me to specifically warn you."

"Why me?" Macen was puzzled.

P'ris gave him a sly smile, "Although the Senate died in Shinzon's coup, your contribution to Romulan affairs is in the collective bureaucratic psyche. The Tal Shiar remembers and therefore the Senate remembers as well."

"A moment ago you referred to these people as the New Order." Macen seized upon that point, "Is that the name of the entire movement?"

P'ris nodded, "To the best of our information it is."

"And they're sponsored by a foreign power?" Macen inquired.

"Yes, they are." P'ris answered crisply.

"Will this tactic extend beyond Bajor?" Macen asked.

P'ris hesitated then plunged ahead, "I believe it will."

Macen's comm badge chirped and he tapped it, "Macen here."

"Brin?" came Vaughn's voice, "It's Elias."

Macen was surprised, "Are you in orbit?"

"Yes." came Vaughn's reply; "The _Defiant _and crew were dispatched to assist you in the advent that the kidnappers are still on the planet or in local space."

"Come on down, Elias." Macen suggested, "From the information I was just given, this is an interstellar group. I sincerely doubt that they are on Bajor."

"The interstellar part of the equation has already been confirmed." Vaughn tersely supplied, "The President of Alpha Centauri, the Premier of Bolshevik, and the Governor of Risa have all been abducted as well. We're waiting on reports of the situations of other planetary leaders."

"I think I've discovered a common denominator." Macen revealed, "I don't want to discuss it on an open channel though. The Militia has access to Starfleet's usual encryption ciphers. They've already been implicated in this."

"Understood." Vaughn replied, "I'll be down in five minutes."

"See you then." Macen smiled, "Macen out."

"So," P'ris wore a coy smile, "the infamous Commander Vaughn will grace us with his presence. This will be a historic meeting. No living member of the Tal Shiar has ever encountered Commander Vaughn."

"I find that hard to believe." Macen frowned.

"No other agent has survived such an encounter." P'ris revealed matter of factly.

"Now that I believe." Macen wore a rueful grin, "Elias can be quite deadly when provoked."

"The engagements were to the death." P'ris described, "Vaughn's survival is a testament to his skills."

"That and more." Macen agreed, "I'd better start getting preliminary reports from my people. You're welcome to join me."

P'ris bowed her head, "With thanks."

Macen proceeded into the master bedroom where Danan and Kort were conducting their scans, "Any news?"

"I need to tie into the Bajoran Security Net." Danan proclaimed, "I need to run a few ID checks."

"Patch in through T'Kir's post." Macen instructed her. Danan rose from her kneeling position and exited the room. Kort took one last scan of the misplaced desk and closed his tricorder.

"There were only two occupants of this room." Kort reported, "The 1st Minister and a second party. That party left fingerprints on the door and on the discarded phaser that the Minister had also gripped."

"Have you checked the security keypad of the entrance to the Residence for these prints?" Macen enquired.

"I was about to." Kort shouldered past P'ris, "Excuse me."

This aggravated Macen but P'ris gently put a restraining hand on his shoulder. She wore a bemused expression as she spoke, "I do not believe the good Doctor likes or trusts me very much. Some racial prejudices are harder to slay then others."

"He should know better." Macen said in disgust.

P'ris laughed, "Come now, Captain. Even with all of your vaunted Federation inspired benevolence you do not fully trust me. And it is wise that you do not! My superiors originally allowed these deeds to proceed unhindered until doubts as to what your reaction would be if their complicity were learned."

"No guilt involved?" Macen wondered.

P'ris smiled, "Ours is an amoral profession Captain. You are a highly moral and honourable man but even you must operate in an ethical vacuum at times."

"At times." Macen grudgingly admitted.

P'ris pressed a finger to her lips, "That is enough for now. I do believe Commander Vaughn has arrived."

Macen heard Vaughn greet Kort and then he appeared as he stepped into the master bedroom, "Hello Brin." Vaughn's eyes widened a bit at the sight of P'ris, "And who is your delightful companion?" Vaughn smiled, all charm and grace.

P'ris drank in the sight of a legend. Vaughn appeared forty years younger then his actual age of almost eleven decades. Still graced with a thick shock of white hair and a snow-white beard, Vaughn's eyes narrowed as he sensed her scrutiny. Even past a century old, the human was still cunning and alert.

"May I assume that you are Commander P'ris of the Tal Shiar?" Vaughn cordially asked, offering his hand in greeting.

P'ris accepted his grip, "I am. You, of course, are Commander Elias Vaughn, formerly of Starfleet Special Operations and now the Executive Officer of _Deep Space 9_ and Commanding Officer of the _USS Defiant_."

"You are well informed." Vaughn tacitly admitted her assertions.

"As are you." P'ris countered, "We have never met yet you ascertain my identity with the merest of glances."

An easy smile crossed Vaughn's rugged features, "Captain Macen has spoken so highly of you in the past that I assumed any Tal Shiar agent standing beside him would be you."

Laughter bubbled out of P'ris, "I do like you, Commander. You and Captain Macen banter alike."

"I should take that as an insult." Vaughn's eyes twinkled in Macen's direction.

"As it was intended." P'ris easily grinned.

Macen's comm badge began chirping before he could reply, "If you'll excuse me."

Macen stepped out of the bedroom. Thinking twice about P'ris' Vulcanoid ears, he exited the Residence before tapping his comm badge, "Macen here."

"Danan." the Trill announced, "T'Kir and I have discovered something rather interesting. You might want to see this."

"I'll be right there." Macen promised. On his way out of the Residence, he saw Kort folding up his tricorder, "Any luck?"

"The freshest prints come from the mysterious second party in the bedroom." Kort reported.

"Good work." Macen praised him, "Get outside and run an examination of the kidnappers' transport."

"Yes sir!" Kort practically bellowed and hurriedly proceeded down the hall towards the main exit.

Macen followed and began to stride down the hallway towards the Security Office. He'd considered letting Vaughn and P'ris know where he was going but he'd opted to hear T'Kir and Danan's reports first. He trusted Vaughn completely but like P'ris had said, she was still a question mark. He'd evaluate the data and disseminate it as he saw fit.

* * *

It only took a few moments to reach the Security Office. T'Kir and Danan were both seated in its two chairs. T'Kir was running some sort of diagnostic of an indeterminate nature. Danan was searching the Bajoran Security Net.

Macen placed his hands on either side of the doorway and leaned in, "Ladies?"

T'Kir turned and gave him a beatific smile, "I've done good, Boss."

"What do you have?" Macen asked.

"Did y'ditch your entourage?" T'Kir enquired, peering past Macen.

"They're still in the bedroom." Macen replied with a grin.

"Sounds naughty." T'Kir wore an impish grin.

"Can we get to the point?" Macen asked a tad testily.

"Rude _and _pushy." T'Kir commented to Danan.

Danan shook her head sadly and confided in T'Kir, "That's always been his problem."

Macen could immediately see a problem with this work arrangement. Having his wife and his ex-lover sitting in confined quarters with no restrictions on their conversation could breed trouble for him.

"C'mon, Lees," Macen pleaded with Danan, "T'Kir's already a handful. Don't infect her with any more rebellious ideas."

"What's this '_any _more rebellious ideas' _shuk_?" T'Kir demanded, "Since when am I under your authority? I thought we were partners."

Macen shut his eyes and groaned, "Domestically and in business, we _are _partners. On this team and as part of this crew, you answer to me."

"Back to being rude." T'Kir haughtily announced to Danan.

"Cut the crap, T'Kir." Macen insisted with a hint of irritation, "What did you find?"

Chastised, T'Kir's cheeks flushed emerald, "There was a back-up to the primary security systems."

"Really?" Macen was immediately intrigued, "What is it?"

"The building is laced with Digital Video Recorders." T'Kir explained, "It's an archaic tech. It predated the Occupation and the Cardassian, Bajoran and Federation upgrades to the system."

"Why weren't they removed?" Macen wondered.

T'Kir shrugged, "They're museum pieces. They should be donated to the Bajoran Technical Institute. The system was taken off the main security grid decades ago. But the DVRs are still running as a secondary system."

"So what did you get?" Macen wondered.

"Only three of the DVRs are still functioning and the memories on those is failing. What we have are grainy images of the perps prior to the kidnapping and during their transporter escape while the inhibitors were down." T'Kir described, "We've gotten a good look at the leader that Lees is enhancing and should have a positive identification in a moment."

"Stream the video from the first recorded image until the last." Macen ordered.

"You got it." T'Kir said in a chipper voice and began inputting commands into the computer.

"If the DVR system was removed from the security grid, how did you access it from here?" Macen enquired.

"Just to show you how good I am," T'Kir grinned victoriously, "I'll tell you. I accessed several subsystems and one of them related to maintenance. Equipment labelled as security devices was still receiving power after the shutdown. Isolating the location of the devices was easy."

"Next, I ran a peripheral hardware search to see what these were. An old, corrupted database still had `em on file and I started looking for command and control codes. Whoever 'deleted' these files simply rerouted them to an unused portion of the database but the files remained resident. Having found `em, I activated `em and started screening the little movie you're about to see." T'Kir took a breath, "Any questions?"

Macen held up his hands, "Not from me."

"Good." T'Kir rose and offered Macen her seat, "The view's better down here."

Macen sat down and T'Kir plopped down on his lap. Macen gave her a wry look, "Are you sure this is safe?"

"Safest seat in the house." T'Kir promised and then her brow rose, "What? You thought I'd just give up my seat?"

"Are you comfortable?" Macen teased, "Can I get you a pillow?"

T'Kir wiggled her butt, "I'm comfy."

"Can we start the video now _before_ I get distracted?" Macen asked.

"Whatever you say." T'Kir grinned and pressed a LCARS style control.

On the main screen a grainy image formed. It showed a pair of Militia officers get shot by particle blasts. A man stepped into view. He looked around and his face was clearly shown.

"I already checked." T'Kir happily pre-empted Macen's next question, "That is definitely one Kelv Sidra. Keep watching."

A dozen armoured Bajorans appeared and were led down the hallway by Kelv. A smartly dressed woman with an elegant and regal bearing trailed them. Her gaze never wavered. It stayed straight ahead towards the goal.

T'Kir froze the image and enhanced it, "_That _is Kara Gena. She's the Legal Minister and Astris' partner. It gets even more interesting after this."

The imagery resumed. There was a splice and next it showed the outside of the Residence. Kara moved forward through the throng of her "troops". She keyed in the access code to the door and Kelv went through the door first. No phaser fire met the incoming kidnappers. After a moment's pause, Kara entered the Residence.

Another splice brought them to the Residence's master bedroom. There, Kara greeted a hunkered down Astris. Astris revealed herself and stepped out. The couple had a brief conversation and Kara reached out and gently disarmed the stunned looking Astris. Afterwards she peacefully led Astris out of the room. The visuals ended there.

"So our Legal Minister is the primary mover here." Macen surmised.

"Yup." T'Kir sadly agreed, "It's no wonder poor Astris looked so betrayed."

"The armoured Bajorans were wearing helmets." Macen grimaced, "No positive IDs available. Have the results of the AWOL personnel come in yet?"

"General Tannin is still compiling it." T'Kir reported.

"Help him out." Macen instructed.

"Aye, aye Captain Bligh." T'Kir replied with a mock salute.

Macen shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "What have you got, Lees?"

"A migraine." Danan grumped.

"I think it's catching." Macen rubbed his temples.

"Poor dear." Danan said with mock sympathy.

"Do you have a report or not?" Macen wearily asked.

"Shore `nuff." Danan replied with a grin. Using T'Kir's favourite sayings was becoming a game amongst her teammates. "The video proves our forensic evidence that Kara was the other occupant of the bedroom and also handled the phaser. Sweeping the room for skin samples, I procured two distinct and separate genetic samples. I've sent these findings to the _Obsidian's _labs and am having them reviewed as we speak."

Danan grew sombre, "One of the genetic samples was almost too perfect. It was like looking at Hannah Grace's DNA."

Macen frowned, "Genetic manipulation?"

Danan shrugged, "I'm not ruling anything out at this time. I'll let you know the results of the lab findings as soon as I get them."

"What lab findings?" Vaughn asked from behind Macen's position. He merrily surveyed Macen and T'Kir's relative positions and had to chuckle, "Your investigative techniques really do boggle the mind at times, Brin."

Macen grinned, "Whatever works, Elias. That's my motto."

"Your leaving us behind was shrewd, Commander." P'ris ruefully remarked, "Well played. I will have to remember that technique."

"What technique?" Macen innocently asked.

"Distracting one with one's object of admiration and departing to ostensibly answer a comm signal." P'ris dryly explained.

"To be fair, I did answer the page." Macen helped lift T'Kir out of his lap, "It was afterwards that I decided to receive my subordinates' reports alone."

"Watch who you're calling a 'subordinate'." T'Kir warned.

"We've had this conversation." Macen reminded her.

"We haven't _begun_ to have _this _conversation." T'Kir promised and retook her seat.

"I'm going to have a long day in the near future." Macen commented as he stepped out of the Security Office. He took Vaughn and P'ris off to the side and began to explain what T'Kir and Danan had learned.

* * *

"Could Kara Gena really be the product of genetic engineering?" P'ris wondered, "I believe eugenics are still illegal in the Federation."

"Bajor is a fairly recent addition to the Federation." Macen observed, "Who knows what was done during the Occupation or the centuries before it. The Bajorans have had spaceflight for fifty thousand years. They've been colonising nearby space during that entire time. Who knows what one of those colonies could have secretly developed?"

"A chilling thought." Vaughn remarked grimly, "Dr. Bashir aside, I have to say that my experience has been that eugenically bred 'super beings' are inherently unstable."

"I would dare say that we all have shared those experiences." P'ris ventured, "The question now is, if this kidnapping leads to the revelation of a genetically engineered planetary population, what would you be willing to do in order to halt their ambitions?"

"Wait a minute," Macen objected, "who said anything about a planetary population? Is there something you haven't told us yet?"

"I merely draw the, dare I say it, logical conclusion." P'ris answered, "Bajor is hardly likely to have been able to develop or shelter a race of engineered mutants. A colony, perhaps, but not the homeworld. If a colony is sheltering a group of these beings then it must do so with the tacit consent of the government. The natural ambitions and talents of the enhanced insure that they would have achieved positions of superiority."

"She's right." Vaughn ruefully admitted.

"In preparing for this mission I would be willing to bet that Commander P'ris now knows more about Bajor and her colonies then either of us." Macen wryly commented.

Vaughn held up his hands, "I'm not taking that bet."

P'ris graced them with a smile, "You are a wise man but you have not yet answered my question."

"Starfleet would devote as many ships and personnel as it took to capture and resettle those found to be genetically engineered in proper psychiatric institutions." Vaughn admitted.

"They may not be insane." Macen pointed out, "They may be able to assimilate into a culture as Kara evidently did here."

"Have you pulled her dossier yet?" Vaughn asked.

"I was about to head to the Residence and use the security station in there to peruse the records of her and her known accomplices." Macen revealed, "Care to join me?"

"Ah," P'ris wore a wry smile, "we are given a choice this time around."

"And I say we keep tabs on our wily Captain here." Vaughn voted.

"I agree." P'ris chuckled, "He is much too dangerous to be allowed to roam around unattended."

"Then let's be about it." Macen said and led them back to the Residence.


	6. Chapter 6

79

Astris Beru paced back in forth in the small cabin she'd been confined in. She had no idea what kind of craft she was travelling in. All she knew was that it was travelling at high warp. The vibrations permeating the decks and hull indicated that.

It appeared to be a scoutship of some kind. It possessed Bajoran elements as well as features that were vaguely Cardassian. She supposed that was natural. The Occupation still permeated every facet of Bajor.

She heard the locks on the door cycle and it slid aside. Kara Gena stood there, unescorted and unarmed. Astris calculated her odds of overpowering her partner. She just couldn't bring herself to commit violence against her lover, at least not yet. Kara's abduction of her had been bloodless and surprisingly cordial.

"Gena," Astris remarked scornfully, "have you come to gloat?"

Kara adopted a pitying look, "Please Beru. You have no idea how difficult this is for me."

"Treason is usually difficult, Gena." Astris dryly retorted, "That's what keeps most people from engaging in it."

"Whether or not I've committed treason is for history to decide." Kara calmly declared, "The difficulty is of a more personal nature and you know it."

"No," Astris said flippantly, "actually I don't. I'm used to my lovers betraying me."

"You weren't supposed to be 1st Minister when this occurred, Beru." Kara pleaded, "Please tell me there's a chance 'we' will survive this."

"The concept of 'us' will stand a much better chance if we return to Bajor and you surrender yourself to the authorities." Astris warned.

Kara grew pensive, "I don't think that's going to happen. Keep an open mind, Beru. It'll make your time pass by far more gracefully."

"Can I at least get some clothes?" Astris asked.

"The replicator is on." Kara informed her, "Its programming is understandably limited but you should find something to suffice."

"Thank you for that at least." Astris moved over to the replicator and began perusing its menu.

Kara looked unaccustomarily uncertain, "I thought you might like to talk."

"Will you discuss where we're headed and why?" Astris wondered.

"I can't." Kara almost whispered.

"Then I'd prefer to be alone." Astris decided.

Kara looked hurt but she stoically stiffened her lips and nodded, "As you wish."

As Kara exited the cabin, Astris regretted the lie. She'd like this to be nothing more than a bad dream. Then she could wake up and have Kara wrap her strong arms around her. It had been some time since Astris had been on her own. It would be a difficult transition.

Even through all of this, Astris still wanted to forgive Kara but her duty to Bajor, and previously to Starfleet, could not permit it. Escape! That was her only option now. Any obstacle in her path would have to be neutralised, permanently if necessary.

Kara was her opponent now. Despite Astris' blinding love for her, she had to be treated as an enemy. Astris' heart fractured into shattered shards at the thought. If Kara presented herself alone again it may prove to be Astris' only hope for escape. Astris prayed to the Prophets that she would be strong enough to take advantage of such an opportunity.

* * *

"Kara's been on Bajor for twelve years." Macen said as he read the fact on her security file, "She's from the colony on Ceta Organus III."

"That colony's been virtually independent since before the Occupation." Vaughn added, "The Cardassians used it as an agricultural hub rather than as a mineral resource centre."

"Was the colony inducted into the Federation along with Bajor?" P'ris wondered.

Vaughn nodded, "It retains its colonial status as a matter of pride rather than of necessity. All of Bajor's colonies were included in her admission."

"Is that usual in these cases?" P'ris enquired, looking from Macen to Vaughn.

"Yes." Macen supplied the answer, "Colonies are usually inducted into the

Federation along with their homeworld."

"Have all of these worlds been inspected by the Federation?" P'ris continued her inquiry.

Macen nodded towards Vaughn, "Go ahead, Elias. You field this one."

Vaughn shot Macen an irritated look and Macen merely grinned like the proverbial Cheshire cat, "Ever since the Federation's rehabilitation of the Bajor sector began, all of the known colonies have been contacted, assessed and assisted by the Federation."

"So you are admitting that there is room for unknown colonies?" P'ris wore a coy expression.

"Well," Vaughn rubbed the back of his head, "Fifty thousand years is a long time to cover and Bajor lost contact with most of her former colonies. The Cardassians reunited some of the colonies but there's always room for a few to have slipped through the cracks."

"Most interesting." P'ris grew pensive.

"You still believe that this is the work of a 'hidden' lost colony aren't you?" Macen inquired, "Despite her file saying that she's from Ceta Organus III."

P'ris slowly nodded, "But of course. Your Security services and the Bajoran Militia are present on all of the known colonies. We have a potentially genetically engineered suspect and no trace of where that engineering came from. I suggest that you run a physical records check on Kara Gena on Ceta Organus III and dispatch Starfleet Security to investigate the possibility of a genetics laboratory operating in secret."

"That was going to be my next course of action." Macen replied dryly.

"Oh." P'ris' cheeks coloured.

Macen accessed the board's subspace transmitter and made the various calls that P'ris had outlined. The wheels were set in motion but there was little else that could be done besides reading the rest of Kara's file. Macen returned to it and began perusing the stark outline of Kara's life. When he'd finished, he leaned back and rubbed his bearded chin.

"It's too perfect." he declared.

"Her file?" Vaughn asked.

"She's dotted every I and crossed every T." Macen described, "She's never made a mistake. Which wouldn't be possible even if she were genetically enhanced. If she were able to assimilate, she'd make mistakes in order to fit in and avoid scrutiny."

"The Starfleet Intelligence Law of Improbability is now in effect." Vaughn declared, "If the file looks too good to be true then it's an enemy agent."

P'ris pursed her lips and then broke into a lopsided smile, "I will endeavour to keep that in mind, Commander."

"Hopefully our two governments will build a lasting peace and there won't any reason to keep it in mind." Vaughn smiled in return.

"That is indeed a hope." P'ris bowed her head slightly, "Let us see if reality can conform to it."

"We shall indeed." Vaughn brightly predicted.

Macen's comm badge chirped and he tapped it, "Macen here."

"Dracas." the Nova Roman announced, "I have found something that will interest you."

"Really?" Macen was intrigued, "What is it?"

"An isolinear data recording." Dracas revealed.

"I'll meet you in the Security Office." Macen ordered and rose out of his seat and started moving.

"It will be done." Dracas confirmed, "Dracas out."

"He's an eager one, isn't he?" Vaughn smiled.

Macen grinned, "He is at that."

P'ris looked confused, "Is this the same Hal Dracas that was a member of your crew? Our information states that he is dead."

Macen and Vaughn exchanged a glance. Macen adopted a wry expression, "Hal _was_ killed."

"Then who is that man?" P'ris wondered, "The resemblance is remarkable."

"Joachim is a clone of Hal Dracas." Macen disclosed, "He came from…a backwater world. His skills are remarkably similar. He's still getting used to some of our tech but he's a quick study."

"I see." P'ris replied but she still seemed perplexed. Her eyes reflected her inner turmoil. Questions filled her mind but they remained unspoken.

"Come on." Macen waved Vaughn and P'ris onward, "Let's see what the big discovery is."

Dracas was already waiting for them at the Security Office. He warily eyed P'ris as he handed the isolinear rod over to Macen. P'ris returned his scrutiny. He was an unknown variable and she needed to reassess him.

"Excuse me." Macen said to T'Kir.

"Oh goody!" T'Kir said as she eagerly rose, "My seat cushion is back!"

Macen sat down and T'Kir happily plopped down onto his lap. Sitting with her arms wrapped around his neck, she smiled as he inserted the rod into a receptacle. The computer automatically read the data and began to display the information recorded onto the rod.

An auxiliary screen activated and the image of Kara Gena appeared, "Greetings. I only have to assume that our formidable Militia and the vaunted Starfleet are watching. Allow me to introduce myself to the uninitiated. My name is Kara Gena. I am the Legal Minister of the Bajoran government. I represent and lead the New Order movement on Bajor."

Kara's revelations continued after a heartbeat's hesitation, "As the name suggests, our movement seeks a new order within the Federation. Our recent political upheaval amply demonstrated the inherent weaknesses that currently exist within the existing system. Many strides have taken place to insure that such events will not repeat themselves but these are slow and inefficient. We offer a viable alternative."

"We have 'borrowed' dozens of your planetary leaders in an effort to convince them to side with us on this issue." Kara divulged, "We offer you order and stability. Elect our representatives to your high offices and you will see strength and a resolve you have never witnessed before. We give you one standard week to reply to our message and begin deliberating our proposal. Failure to broach this issue will result in a reprimand."

"Do not fear for your planetary leaders." Kara assured her audience, "They are our honoured guests and will be treated as such and will not be bartered or used as hostages. Please see reason and accept our proposal at face value."

The image froze then the screen went dark. Macen turned towards P'ris, "Well, that lends credence to your 'lost colony' theory."

"Yes." Vaughn rubbed his chin as he nodded, "I agree."

"Somebody want to explain this 'theory' t'me?" T'Kir demanded.

"P'ris theorised that our kidnappers are from a 'lost' Bajoran colony that's operating as a rogue nation." Macen explained, "Kara's own statements lend credence to this. She constantly referred to the Federation as 'your' government. Her strong emphasis on stressing that her group is acting independently of the Federation gives this some weight as well."

"But we referred to the Federation as a hostile entity as well in the Maquis." T'Kir countered.

"We did." Macen agreed, "But we never declared ourselves to be anything but Federation citizens. Even as rebels we claimed our cultural identity."

T'Kir's lips curved into a wry grin, "Well, at least some of us did. I don't recall you ever waving an El-Aurian flag around."

Macen grinned in reply, "I never saw the point. What was I supposed to be, an "Army of One"?

"You'll always conquer me." T'Kir cooed.

Macen rolled his eyes, "Puh-lease." Macen swivelled the chair around to face Vaughn and P'ris, "While it's true truly disaffected terrorist will refer to an opposing government as a separate entity, having no claim over the revolutionary movement, there is still a strong possibility that this is a case involving a 'lost' colony. Kara Gena didn't exist before twelve years ago and she's already established herself as a formidable presence in Bajoran affairs."

"For the abduction of so many leaders to occur simultaneously is unnatural." P'ris observed, "It is only achievable through an infinitely complex and elaborate degree of planning and coordination. This plot may have well been years in the making."

"Agreed." Vaughn nodded, "The precision of these people's attacks indicate patient, methodical preparation. They will be hard to find."

"Of course they will be." Macen smirked, "That's another element that lends credence to the unknown colony theory. These operatives have to find a place to hide their prisoners. Where better than a missing world?"

"You don't think that they're on Bajor?" Vaughn asked.

"The video indicates that they never left the Residence _and _their transport is still outside." Macen replied knowingly, "They aren't here so they have to somewhere else. Bajor doesn't posses a site to site public transporter system."

"Neither does the Militia." Vaughn revealed with a sidelong glance at P'ris.

P'ris laughed with sheer delight, "Fear not, Commander. You have not betrayed a confidence. The Tal Shiar made a thorough evaluation of the Bajorans' capabilities during the Dominion War."

"Really?" Vaughn grew intrigued.

"It did seem prudent." P'ris said innocently, "We were about to go to war with Bajor over our hospital facilities."

"A hospital with a Tal Shiar presence." Vaughn dryly surmised.

"Patients can be debriefed as effectively as the fit and able, Commander." P'ris sniffed.

"I suppose." Vaughn murmured with more than a hint of suspicion, "I have to wonder what capacity you served in during the war, Commander."

A sly smile spread across P'ris' face, "My past can remain shrouded in mystery, Commander. Too many of my dealings have come to light in the Federation already."

"As have mine in the Romulan Empire." Macen said pointedly.

"The curse of our association I am afraid." P'ris offered by way of consolation.

"That's little comfort, Commander." Macen's eyebrow quirked, "My ability to operate undercover in the Empire has been neutralised."

"As a freelance investigator who only accepts the 'occasional' contract from Starfleet," P'ris remarked dryly, "your endeavours should not be greatly affected. What you are describing is the work of intelligence agents not privateers. Unless, of course, your true vocation lies outside of your cover story."

Macen smiled, "Keep trying P'ris. Any pertinent details of my profession can be found at the Security Guild databases."

"For you are truly a civilian now." P'ris chimed in with a merry twinkle in her eye. This game always remained a constant source of amusement for her.

"Well," Macen looked uncomfortable, "Starfleet refused to accept my resignation but they did shift my status back to 'Reservist'."

"So," P'ris retorted with satisfaction, "you are _still_, however indirectly, a Starfleet officer."

"Technically I am." Macen conceded, "But I write my own ticket. I don't have to accept any contracts I don't like."

P'ris shook her head and clucked her tongue, "You still will not admit that you are a Starfleet operative in deep cover although we both know that is the truth."

"It was the truth at one time." Macen confessed, "But that reality no longer applies."

"Someday. Someday I will get you to reveal your true associations to me." P'ris vowed then brushed her hair away from her face, "Until then, we have a case to consider here."

"Exactly." Macen nodded and turned towards T'Kir, who still happily clung to him, "How's it coming with those reports from General Tannin?"

"I was about to 'assist' him when you showed up." T'Kir divulged.

"Do I really want to know how?" Macen looked worried.

"Probably not." T'Kir laughed, "Beings we have jurisdiction, they'll be unlikely to prosecute in case I'm caught. Since that's highly unlikely, I wouldn't start worrying yet. But if I am, I wouldn't let any Starfleet personnel furlough on Bajor for the next six months."

"But you are not technically Starfleet." P'ris had to get one final shot in.

"We're operating on a Starfleet admiral's authority and latinum voucher." Macen calmly replied, "That makes us Starfleet in his eyes. Especially with Elias here standing right next to me."

Macen patted T'Kir's backside, "Upsy daisy. You need to get those reports. I don't care how you get them. Just get them."

"Right!" T'Kir hopped up and waited for the return of "her" chair. Macen obliged her and she sat down to hungrily attack the Bajoran databases. T'Kir sliced into a document carrying Tannin's authorisation code and copied it. Using his command code, she began accessing the Militia's secure databases.

She hurriedly set up keyword and time/date parameters and let the search engine take over and scroll through the database files. Two hits registered and she displayed them on the two main screens. Smiling triumphantly, T'Kir turned to Macen.

"Check these out." she urged.

Macen stepped into the Security Office and stood behind T'Kir. His hands settled on her shoulders and he began kneading her taut muscles. T'Kir moaned.

"Don't…stop." she breathed. His hands moved up to her neck and attacked the muscle knots to be found there. His eyes searched the reports she'd found as he worked. Eyes narrowing, he focused in on one report.

"We have five AWOL Militia troops and two more likelies." Macen called out to Vaughn and P'ris, "That matches the numbers shown in the video footage."

"What about the ships leaving orbit?" Vaughn asked.

"Sixty-seven ships left in the two hour time period following the estimated time of the abduction." Macen answered and turned to face Vaughn.

"Hey!" T'Kir protested, "You stopped! Get back here before I have to kill you."

"Patience." Macen suggested, "You'll never know what's to come if you don't settle down."

"Fine." T'Kir huffed. She folded her arms across her chest and slouched down in her chair.

Danan looked over and gave her a reassuring smile, "He'll be back when he's done conferring with our 'guests'."

"Traitor." T'Kir grumped, "Take his side, why don'cha?"

Danan shrugged, "I was merely trying to cheer you up. No need to make a federal case out of it."

Macen spun on his heel and faced T'Kir again, "Can you pull up the Militia records of Jared Kilj and Kelv Sidra?"

"Will you finish my massage?" T'Kir enquired.

"No bartering." Macen scolded, "Get to work."

"This is not how I planned on spending my evening." T'Kir pouted as she began querying the computer.

"Poor baby." Danan consoled her, "Brin, the lab called me while you were away. The DNA has been modified from the Bajoran norm. We're dealing with some form of genetic manipulation."

"Elias, alert Starfleet of the possibility of these acts being perpetrated by genetically enhanced individuals." Macen ordered.

Vaughn adopted a wry grin, "Yes, sir." He stepped further down the hall and tapped his comm badge.

Macen turned to P'ris, "Now would be a good time for you to contact your superiors as well."

P'ris' eyebrow arched, "But I am unsupported. My mission is unofficial so I was sent in…"

"Alone?" Macen laughed, "I never knew you were a comedian, Commander. You have some powerful friends, P'ris. They've kept you alive this long and I'm willing to bet they want you to stay alive. I'm guessing you have a shuttle at your disposal at the least and a full scoutship at the most. Be honest. I can always find out the hard way."

P'ris pursed her lips, "I have a scoutship in orbit."

"Then I suggest you alert them to what's going on here and request instructions on how to proceed." Macen insisted.

"Yo!" T'Kir called out, "I've got Jared and Kelv on display."

"Let's see what we can see." Macen said and he stepped up behind T'Kir again. Once again, his fingers began working on her tense muscles. T'Kir groaned and leaned her head forward as he carefully applied pressure to her neck.

"Don't flop your head around." Macen scolded, "Keep your head upright but loose."

"Yes, Boss."

Macen scrutinised the records of the two men. He was searching for similarities, a common history. There were several such occurrences.

"They were both orphaned in the Occupation and they were both Resistance fighters. Both Jared and Kelv rose through the ranks to the Ministerial guard detail and both requested transfers back to regular Militia duties." Macen said aloud as he perused both files, "They were previously assigned to a protection detail together guarding…aha! They were guarding Kara Gena when she was still the Deputy Legal Minister."

"Did you find something significant?" P'ris asked as she poked her head back into the Security Office.

"A connection between two of the kidnappers and Kara Gena." Macen happily announced then he sobered a bit, "What're your marching orders?"

"Apparently I have already exceeded my mandate." P'ris said ruefully, "I am to break contact immediately and return to my vessel."

"But not on to home." Macen surmised.

P'ris wore a wry smile, "Please, Captain. You know I cannot divulge any more of my business."

"T'Kir, are the transport inhibitors still off line?" Macen queried her.

"Yup." came the glib response.

"Thanks for your help." Macen took a break from T'Kir's massage to clasp P'ris' wrist, "I hope to return the favour some day."

P'ris looked amused, "That day shall come sooner than you anticipate."

Macen's right eyebrow quirked upward, "I believe it."

P'ris tapped the comm badge affixed to her wrist as a bracelet, "P'ris to _Talon_, one to transport."

"Acknowledged."

A moment later, P'ris disappeared in a halo of energy that swiftly dissipated. Vaughn came striding up at that moment, "I take it the lady's been recalled."

Macen shrugged, "What else?"

"I'm having the station run an antiproton sweep to try and detect the Romulan ship but I doubt we'll get anything." Vaughn smiled in admiration, "You have to admit, she's a gutsy lady."

"You don't know the half of it." Macen remarked with a rueful tinge.

"A-_hem_!" T'Kir insistently cleared her throat, "Why don't you tell Elias about Jared and Kelv while you finish up on my shoulders?"

Vaughn's smile grew wider, "Lady knows what she wants."

"Always." Macen grinned. As he resumed his labours on T'Kir's shoulders, he relayed what he'd discovered about the two Bajoran constables. Vaughn listened intently.

Eyes blazing, Vaughn began his own interpretation of the data at hand, "We need to pull the records of that entire detail and have people run the officers down. We need background and details from everyone involved with Kara Gena over the years."

Macen patted T'Kir on the back, "You're good to go. Pull up the rosters of Kara's guard details over the years and match them up with the AWOL officers list."

T'Kir forlornly sighed and genuflected, "Thousand pardons for enjoying the moment, Master. I live to obey."

"If only you meant it." Macen retorted.

"You'd go mad from boredom if I meant it." T'Kir shot back, "You love the challenge."

"You're probably right." Macen conceded.

"I am." T'Kir firmly replied.

Vaughn had to laugh. Macen cast a bemused eye his way while T'Kir ran a comparative search between the lists she was compiling. Soon, five names were highlighted. T'Kir punched up the files on all five.

Danan whistled, "Tough bunch of customers."

"Jared and Kelv each had a hard look to them as well." Macen pointed out, "Let's see if their files and psych profiles are similar as well."

"Want me to run a comparative search?" T'Kir enquired.

"Do it." Macen decided. He'd reviewed Jared and Kelv's psych data. He'd noticed similarities there. If these files contained them as well then they'd have a pattern. Patterns could be pursued.

"Whoa!" T'Kir lurched back in her seat, "Take a look at this."

All seven files now had sections highlighted. There were a remarkable number of highlights. Each highlight registered a matching parameter in another file. Macen, Vaughn, T'Kir and Danan all began to peer at the assembled files.

"They all suffered a particularly nasty trauma during the Occupation." Danan noted.

"Each was a member of the Resistance." Vaughn observed.

"They all joined the Militia after the Resistance folded. Terrorists gone legit." T'Kir grinned in Vaughn's direction.

Vaughn chuckled but his merriment ended when Macen spoke, "That's how they got to where they are but notice the last addendums. Each of these people were passionately driven towards building a stronger, more secure Bajor. That was their tantamount reason for rising each day."

"And?" Danan had to ask, "That's probably true of every Militia officer if not every Bajoran."

"Strong enough to get noted in a psych eval?" Macen wondered. Danan thought about it and shook her head. Macen studied the screens, searching for the next intuitive leap.

"Kara mentioned that this New Order offered strength and stability." he recalled, "_That's _the draw. These seven are average Bajorans. Kara represents an effort of genetic engineering. What brings them together? The safety and future of Bajor."

"I think you have something." Vaughn nodded as he reflected on Macen's deduction; "If this New Order were promising a new, more secure future for Bajor it would influence people like this. It could even go so far as to prompt them to kidnap their own 1st Minister."

"We have to further analyse Kara's statement." Macen said and drew the data rod out of his pocket and placed it in the terminal's receptacle. The message replayed. Macen held his fist up to his mouth as he watched it. The message terminated and he withdrew the rod.

"She addresses Starfleet and the Militia but she speaks as though she were talking to the Federation Council. That's who the message is ultimately aimed at." Macen opined.

"Dax reported to me that several Council members are already pressuring Starfleet to see a copy of this message." Vaughn revealed.

"Word travels fast." Macen replied dryly.

"Nothing exceeds warp 10 except a rumour." Vaughn chuckled.

"You can transmit it to Starfleet Command in a minute." Macen said, "First, though, don't you agree that the week long deadline starts today?"

Vaughn nodded, "It seems logical enough."

"That means that if the Council is the intended audience, they'll be the ones reprimanded in a week's time." Macen followed the train of thought.

"Makes sense." Vaughn conceded.

"That means the strike will be on Earth near, or in, the Council chambers." Macen surmised.

"Now, hold on…" Vaughn began to protest.

"Look at it Elias." Macen insisted, "If the last year with Section 31 and Cell 51 has taught us is that there are people throughout the Federation that feel the same as these seven Bajorans. This 'New Order' has to have people still in place."

"I'll agree with the last but the rest of this is pure…" Vaughn faltered.

"You see it to." a grin began to creep across Macen's features.

"They've gotten to the leaders of two dozen worlds." Vaughn revealed, "They've brushed past the best security that could be provided on those planets. They could have the ability to threaten the Council."

Macen handed the data rod over to Vaughn, "Now that you see it my way, go make your report to Bill Ross."

"You are aware of the fact that he's no longer a member of the Council of 5?" Vaughn asked.

"What Council?" Macen asked innocently.

"I've known about the Council longer than you have Brin, so don't play dumb." Vaughn warned.

"Yes," Macen grinned, "I know Bill is no longer on the Council and that Edward Jellico is back on it. Ross will relay the information to Jellico since he's the Chief of Operations. Jellico will alert Alynna Nechayev and Amanda as well as Bob Johnson and Edward Noyce. Jellico will be pleased that things are being run his way and he won't scrutinise the details of my investigation until I've played the game out."

"You're a canny bastard, do you know that?" Vaughn grinned.

"Flattery will get you no where." Macen brushed the thought aside, "Now get back to your ship and make your report."

Vaughn tapped his comm badge and asked for an immediate beam up. Macen turned to T'Kir.

"Transmit all this data to the ship." turning to Danan he added, "Lees, go collect Kort, Dracas, Daggit and Radil. I think we'll be leaving here in a moment."

"All right." Danan agreed, rose, and left.

Macen sat down in her seat, "Where's the comm channel? There it is."

Macen hailed the _Obsidian_ and was transferred to the main viewer's pick up, "Hello Tom."

"What can I do for you?" Riker asked.

"Patch me into Admiral Drake's office." Macen ordered, "I need to have a little chat with Amanda."

Riker grinned, "Sure but go easy on her. We have her kid sister aboard. She might recruit Shannon to kill all of us."

"If Shannon does that it will be because _Shannon _wanted to and for no other reason." Macen laughed.

"Duly noted." Riker looked to his side and then returned his attention to Macen's image, "We have Ambril Delori on the circuit. Patching you through now."

Drake's young Bajoran aide now appeared on the screen, "Captain. Do you need to speak with the Admiral?"

"No, I need to make my report to you Lt. Ambril." Macen answered sarcastically.

"Why can't it ever be 'yes' or 'no'?" Ambril asked in frustration.

"Because life isn't that cut and dry." Macen replied curtly, "I need to talk to Amanda and I need to speak with her like it was yesterday."

"She's free right now." Ambril divulged, "I'll transfer you…now."


	7. Chapter 7

94

Admiral Drake's head and shoulders filled Macen's screen, "I see you're hassling my aide again, Brin."

Macen shrugged, "She was protecting your schedule again, Amanda. I don't have the time for it so I cut through the crap."

Drake squared her shoulders, "What have you turned up?"

"A lot." Macen wore a tight smile, "Our culprit on Bajor was one Kara Gena."

"The Legal Minister?" Drake's surprise showed, "My feelers were that she and the 1st Minister were quite intimate."

"They are." Macen confirmed, "Kara and Astris' relationship began before Astris was elected 1st Minister. I think this agenda was planned well in advance and Astris and Kara's relationship just got in the way."

"Or not." Drake commented, "Seeing as how she was kidnapped anyway."

"Kara seemed genuinely reluctant to take Astris into her custody. I think she wavered for a moment between her cause and her lover. We might be able to use that later on."

"Perhaps." Drake remained unconvinced, "What else have you found?"

"Kara Gena is genetically enhanced." Macen revealed, "Her troops were typical Bajorans but she herself is a product of eugenics and genetic manipulation. We have the names and Militia files on all our suspected kidnappers."

"How did you come up with all of this?" Drake was astonished, "The rest of our investigative teams have barely turned anything up."

"Thank the Bajorans insistence on utilising any spare bit of technology, no matter how retrograde, for capturing the bulk of the kidnapping on video." Macen grinned.

"Have you recorded that footage?" Drake eagerly asked.

"Of course." Macen turned to T'Kir, "Can you prepare a data packet for Amanda? Include everything we've turned up."

"Sho' nuff." T'Kir's eyes glowed with enthusiasm.

"We're on it now, Amanda." Macen assured Drake.

"What's this 'we'?" T'Kir teased.

"Never mind her." Macen urged Drake.

"I usually don't." Drake replied.

"Hey!" came T'Kir's sparse protest.

Drake laughed, "I wish I could see the look on her face."

Macen chuckled, "You'd enjoy it."

T'Kir stuck out her tongue at him.

"Have you seen the 'ransom' demand?" Drake nodded and Macen continued, "As you've probably surmised by now, this 'New Order' is an interstellar movement. I think the week long deadline mentioned in their transmission is undoubtedly aimed at the Federation Council and it begins today."

"You truly believe they could strike at the Federation Council?" Drake enquired.

"They believe they can and so far they've managed to pull off whatever they want to. They have help in all of the right places."

"You believe they have agents in place?" Drake wondered.

"I do." Macen confirmed, "They were well connected here on Bajor. They undoubtedly have influenced Starfleet Security. Cell 51 proved that was possible."

"I'll have Ed Noyce look into it." Drake promised, "What's next?"

"The Tal Shiar intercepted an arms shipment bound for the Federation." Macen relayed, "Its destination was an arms supplier who would distribute it amongst an interstellar movement. That sounds like our boy, Pytor Boromov, is back in business."

"Boromov was cleared of all charges as a reward for his actions during the Cell 51 coup." Drake reminded Macen, "It was stipulated that it was a conditional pardon dependent on his retiring from the revolutionary business and living life as a private citizen."

"Then this private citizen won't mind us paying him a visit." Macen insisted.

Drake sighed, "You're hell bent on this aren't you?"

"Yup." Macen's lopsided grin returned.

"Then no matter what I say, you'll pursue this course of action." Drake correctly surmised, "I therefore authorise your interrogating Boromov."

"Thanks Amanda." Macen's grin blossomed into a smile.

T'Kir cleared her throat and Macen asked Drake, "Ready for that packet?"

Drake nodded and Macen cued T'Kir. With the tapping of the screen, the data was transmitted. The subspace signal was relayed through various communications arrays. Travelling faster than even the _Prometheus_-class starship, the signal reached Earth in less than twenty minutes.

In the interim, waiting for the signal to arrive, Macen and Drake outlined his line of questioning for Boromov. Finding themselves with a free moment, the topics became personal.

"So how's Alynna?" Macen asked.

"As good as to be expected in the wake of the coup." Drake answered, "It took a huge personal toll on her. The fact that she didn't see it coming is a constant source of guilt for her. She could stand to hear from an old friend."

Macen guiltily nodded, "If we survive this crisis, I'll contact her."

"That would be a help." Drake smiled, "It would mean a lot to her. She wonders why you haven't reached her for almost a year now and it weighs on her. I'll be contacting her as soon as I've reviewed your data. I'll pass along your regards."

Macen nodded, "Thanks."

"How's Shannon?" Drake asked, "You haven't gotten her killed have you?"

"Not yet." Macen chuckled, "And the ship still hasn't been destroyed."

Drake shook her head, "Give it time. You'll blow her up and my sister with it."

"Don't tempt me." Macen wore an evil grin.

"You'll do it." Drake groaned, "Just to spite me."

"Maybe." Macen was all innocence now.

"Makes me wonder about all those other ships." Drake almost accused.

"Those were honest losses." Macen ruefully admitted, "I'm not a very good ship handler."

"You were never Command track." Drake consoled him, "But Admiral Janeway can testify that the Sciences track can still prepare you for command. You've developed into an able shipmaster."

Macen looked dubious, "Thanks for the kindness but I still believe I'm a better investigator than a ship's captain."

Drake shrugged, "Believe what you will. The truth is self evident for those to see."

Macen grinned wryly, "That's what I'm afraid of."

Drake glanced sideways, "The data arrived."

"I'll leave you to it then and get underway." Macen replied, "I trust Boromov is still playing hotel baron on Risa."

"No." Drake corrected him, "He's on Magna VII. He's left the day to day operations of the Royale in his manager's hands."

"No longer needs a front, eh?" Macen remarked sceptically, "We'll see."

"Go easy on him, Brin." Drake warned, "For all intents and purposes, he's an innocent man. We don't even suspect him of anything."

"At least _you _don't." Macen said.

"_Legally_ we don't suspect him of anything." Drake amended.

"I'm still going to shake him down." Macen resolutely declared, "If nothing else he can provide the name of the true dealer."

"You think he still has contacts in the Underground?" Drake enquired.

"It's a game to him." Macen explained, "It makes him feel powerful. He'll keep his hand in out of love of the game."

Drake pondered his words and then nodded, "I see your point. Sweat him."

Macen grinned, "With pleasure. Macen out."

The screen went dark and T'Kir stared at him with a manic gleam in her eye, "So, we're gonna press Boromov. This should be fun."

"When was the last time you took your meds?" a suddenly concerned Macen asked.

"This morning." T'Kir huffed, "When you _saw_ me take them."

"The dosage isn't enough anymore is it?" Macen inquired.

"No." T'Kir readily admitted, "But it's as high as Kort can proscribe because of the toxicity levels."

"I thought as much even though neither of you told me." Macen divulged.

"It's not bad yet." T'Kir assured him, "I can still block out most thoughts. If a person is really concentrating then it slips past but for the most part things are under control."

"Except when you're tired." Macen countered, "Then your control wavers again."

T'Kir sighed, "Ye-es. I also lose some of my control when I'm tired."

"Like now." Macen deduced.

"Yes," T'Kir was becoming irritated with the scrutiny, "like now. Drop it will ya?"

"Okay." Macen sighed, "We need to find a solution for this though. The last time we faced Boromov you melted down because your med dosage was too small. I'd hate to see that happen again."

"So would I." T'Kir admitted, "But no one can do anything about it right now."

"That'll change as soon as we complete this investigation." Macen said and took her hand, "I promise you that."

"You're sweet." T'Kir squeezed his hand, "Here comes the others."

Macen rose and met the oncoming team, "Everyone ready to go?"

"I found additional skin and hair samples in the lorry." Kort reported, "We can cross reference the DNA with Militia records."

"Excellent." Macen smiled and turned to Daggit and Radil, "Any new information?"

"Nothing that deviates from what they've already reported." Daggit grumbled.

"You had to try." Macen patted Daggit's shoulder.

"Actually," Radil remarked, "one new detail came to light. Leto Fira was the first to awaken. She saw the transporter halos that whisked the kidnappers and Minister Astris away. She then sounded the alarm and requested back-up."

"What times was that?" Macen asked.

"Approximately 25:15 local time." Radil supplied.

Macen hit his comm badge, "Macen to _Defiant_."

"Bowers here." the _Defiant's _Tactical Officer replied, "How can we assist you, Captain?"

"I need to speak with Commander Vaughn."

"I'll patch you through."

"Vaughn here."

Macen smiled, "Elias, the kidnappers beamed out of the Residence at 25:15 local time."

"That would make it 10:30 Greenwich Mean time." Vaughn calculated, "Thanks. That'll narrow down our search."

"How's it coming?" Macen enquired.

"Twelve of the ships haven't made it to their destinations yet. We'll narrow our search parameters down to those ships that left between 10:30 and 11:30 Standard and get back to you."

"Elias, I'm breaking orbit." Macen announced, "I'm calling on Pytor Boromov."

"That slime?" Vaughn let loose of an evil chuckle, "Happy hunting."

"I may have need of the _Defiant's _assistance in the next week or so. Will you stand by?"

"We'll be ready." Vaughn promised.

"Thank you." a relieved Macen said, "Macen out."

Macen hit his comm badge, "Macen to Ro."

"Ro here."

"We're beaming back to the _Obsidian_." Macen announced, "Can you check in with the Inn and keep our rooms reserved? Keep the corporate tab running and let Parva know that we'll be back soon."

"I'll have the _Defiant _transport me." Ro replied, "Then I'll hop a ride back to the station with them."

"How's General Tannin holding up?" Macen asked.

"He's a veritable sabrecat right now." Ro chuckled, "It seems someone used his authorisation code to access Militia files."

"I wonder who could have done that?" Macen innocently enquired.

"So do I." Ro's smirk could virtually be heard, "Let's just hope Tannin can't trace it. He's ready to crucify someone."

"I have it on good authority that the culprit will go undiscovered." Macen assured her.

"Good." Ro asserted.

"Are you endorsing a crime, Security Chief Ro?" Macen teased.

"No." Ro retorted, "Ro Laren, former Maquis, is cheering for the good guys on this one. Safe travels, Brin. Get these bastards."

"We will." Macen promised, "Macen out."

"Ready to leave?" Macen asked his team. Receiving positive nods from everyone but Daggit, he tapped his comm badge, "Macen to _Obsidian_."

"_Obsidian_ here."

"Transfer me to the Transporter Room."

"Aye sir. Standby."

"Telrik here."

"Beam us up, Chief." Macen ordered.

"Give me a second to lock on to you." Telrik grunted, "Ah, I've got you now. See you in a moment, Captain."

With that, the world dissolved.

* * *

"Hannah, break orbit." Macen said as he exited the turbolift, "Set course for Magna VII."

"Yessir." Grace replied gratefully.

"Trouble?" Riker asked.

"Probably." Macen answered, "We're off to see Pytor Boromov."

"Definitely trouble." Riker opined.

"Why are we going to see that toad?" Grace swivelled around to face Macen.

"He has information we need about the case." Macen answered.

"What is the case?" Riker enquired.

"Shannon relieves you in what, eighteen minutes?" Macen asked.

"Yes." Riker confirmed.

"See me in the Team Room and I'll fill you in." Macen replied, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll join my wife for a midnight snack."

"It's dinner time." Grace insisted.

"You were on the surface with us, Hannah." Macen pointed out, "What time was it there?"

"Point taken." Grace acknowledged that fact.

"I'll see you in twenty minutes." Riker informed Macen.

"Good." Macen grinned, "You'll like this one, Tom. It has all the elements of a holonovel."

Riker chuckled, "I'll take your word on it for now."

Macen stopped in front of the lift doors, "Tell Shannon to keep us on course and to proceed at warp 8."

"You've got it." Riker assured him.

"Later." Macen called out as the doors closed.

* * *

"Sounds bad." Riker leaned back and rubbed his chin, "The big mystery is how are we going to find a 'lost' colony if that's the source of the trouble?"

"Hopefully that's where Boromov comes in." Macen explained, "I want information on what the New Order's 'reprimand' is and the location of the movement's headquarters."

"Do you really think Boromov will know all of that?" Grace asked between bites.

"He doesn't know." T'Kir supplied for Macen, "He's basically hoping that Boromov will be obsessive enough to have put the New Order's plan together."

"Why would he do that?" Grace wondered.

"Insurance." Macen detailed, "Our boy Pytor will use that knowledge to insure his own safety. He'll spill his guts to Starfleet Security if he's threatened by the kidnappers."

"Makes sense." Grace accepted the reasoning and then took another bite of her entree.

Riker sat his fork down, "What will we do if Boromov knows both pieces of the puzzle?"

"We'll give Admirals Drake and Noyce the details of the plot against the Federation Council and go after the New Order itself." Macen disclosed, "We have the _Defiant _standing by ready to assist us."

"That's a relief." Riker grinned, "The way this New Order keeps coming up with surprises, I'd hate to barrel into their system and find a fleet of starships waiting for us."

"That might still happen." Macen said grimly, "Remember, they had a ship waiting for them. Who knows what kinds of vessels they have."

Riker frowned and went silent. Grace perked up, "How was it working with Commander P'ris again? The last time we met, we were shooting at each other."

Macen grimaced, "Don't remind me."

"We coulda resumed the firefight this time `round." T'Kir suggested, "She still thinks we're Starfleet for Elements' sake."

"Really?" Grace's brow crinkled as her eyebrows rose, "What's she know that we don't? I know my commission is back in the reserve rolls. Otherwise I'd have made Lt. Commander by now."

"Don't worry Hannah." Macen smiled, "I have it on good authority that your promotion has come through."

"Yay!" Grace happily exclaimed.

"What about me?" Riker asked.

"I don't know." Macen admitted, "Amanda only specifically mentioned Rab and Hannah."

"So Lees is left out as well?" Riker testily enquired.

"Her next grade is captain." Macen explained, "She'd have to do time at a research facility learning administrative management to attain that."

"So she's making a sacrifice by staying on the team?" Riker looked disquieted.

"We all are, Tom." Macen reassured him, "I could have a nice, quiet analysts posting back in Starfleet Intelligence and wouldn't have to bother with all of the Operations' hazards and details. You could be back in the regular fleet serving as the OPS Officer, and probably as the 2nd Officer as well, of some starship. Everyone could find a calmer way to live but for whatever reasons, we've banded together. We're each free to leave at any time."

"You sound as though you've put some thought into leaving." Riker pointed out.

Macen shrugged and wore a wry expression, "I always think about dropping out of the SID game. You'd have to admit our three-year 'hiatus' was fairly nice and relaxing by comparison."

"You could have rejoined Starfleet Intelligence then." Riker smirked, "Why didn't you?"

"And give up this life of crime?" Macen laughed.

Riker chuckled, "I see your point."

"What do you want to do when you retire?" Grace asked, wiping her mouth.

"Sit in the sun and frolic in the water all day long." T'Kir happily grinned.

Macen smiled at his wife's notion of paradise, "I've been thinking about teaching."

"Really?" Grace wrinkled her nose, "Teaching what?"

"My people bestowed a lot of knowledge upon me." Macen said with all due seriousness, "I need to pass it along before I die."

"Is this that 'Seekers of Truth' _shuk_ T'Kir told me about?" Grace wondered.

"Yes, Hannah, it is." Macen patiently answered.

"I know all about Kelvan history and I don't feel a need to pass it along." Grace announced.

"You may feel differently in the future." Macen counselled, "Don't rule it out quite yet."

"We'll see." Grace replied sceptically.

T'Kir yawned and Macen took a final sip of his apple juice, "If that's all, I think we'll turn in."

"You're going to bed?" Grace plaintively asked T'Kir.

"I have to, Honey." T'Kir defended herself, "I was up all night upgrading the computer core and then today's been a full day as well. I'm beat."

Grace pouted and T'Kir patted her cheek, "I'll see you in the morning, Sweetie."

"Fine." Grace was still slightly sullen, "Have a good night."

"Always." T'Kir laughed.

"So what are you up to?" Grace asked Riker.

"I think I'm going to find out how Lees is doing." Riker told her.

"Where is she?" Grace wondered, "I'd assumed that she'd be here eating dinner."

Riker shook his head, "She's probably eating dinner at her work station in the lab. She's writing a paper for the Daystrom Institute."

"Oh." Grace's mouth puckered, "She'll be cranky."

"Most likely." Riker chuckled.

"Good luck." Grace cheered him on, "I'll take care of your tray and dishes."

"Thanks." Riker gave her his most charming smile.

Grace looked about. Radil was eating with some of her Security personnel. Abigail Collins, the Deputy Security Chief, looked as though she were having the time of her life. Grace had to wonder. Radil was never that jovial around the team. What made her Security detail so special?

Kort had taken to eating in his quarters. Ostensibly, replicated Klingon food was still preferable to Chef's creations. Personally, she thought that was a load of crap. Grace assumed that he just couldn't stand the sight of Radil having this much fun so soon after their break up.

Dracas was there as well. He was enjoying a conversation with a few of the engineers. Telrik was among them. Despite Dracas' militant bearing and upbringing, he could be quite charming when he wanted to be.

Grace found Dracas to be an affable companion. His loyalty towards Macen was unquestioned. The Nova Roman Emperor had commanded that Macen's word be treated as his very own. Dracas would fall on his sword if ordered to so there was no doubt as to his unflinching obedience. His devotion to his duties was a plus as well.

_That and he's cute_. Grace regretted, _Too bad. I might not have paired up with Ian if Joachim were interested at all._

The thought of Delaney made her lonely. _I think I'll see what he's up to. His attitude about my last message should have coalesced by now._ With a smile on her lips, she rose from her seat and returned the two trays in her charge. She exited the Team Room. Anxiously awaiting Delaney's reaction, she hurried to her cabin.


	8. Chapter 8

110

Kort hesitated for several minutes. He knew Galloway would be sleeping but he also knew he'd made a commitment to see her again soon. He felt obligated to explain to her that he would be away for an unknown length of time. Taking a deep breath, he commed the Inn's front desk.

The clerk transferred him to Galloway's room. His screen showed a flashing Bajoran crest while the terminal tried to rouse Galloway. If it didn't succeed soon, he would have to content himself with leaving a message.

Galloway's bleary features appeared on screen, "Kort? Is that you?"

"Yes, Hayley, it's me. I apologise for waking you." Kort said sorrowfully.

"What time is it?" Galloway was still reeling.

"It's very early." Kort informed her.

"Why did you call?" she wondered, "Couldn't it have waited until morning?"

"No, it couldn't." Kort explained, "My ship is departing tonight. I will be away for a time. I wanted to let you know that I will be late for our next meeting."

Galloway was alert now, "Why? What's wrong?"

"Much is amiss." Kort said evasively, "Do not fear. We will set it right."

"This is about that investigation you started earlier isn't it?" Galloway frowned, "Something horrible has happened."

"Not yet." Kort assured her, "But it may soon."

"I guess all that's left to say is that my hopes go with you and I look forward to your return." Galloway said earnestly.

"So do I." Kort promised, "I won't say farewell."

"Neither will I." Galloway replied with a smile.

"Kort out." with that, he killed the transmission. Feeling relieved and terribly disappointed at the same time, Kort began to doff his armour. He'd worn it since the middle of last ship's night and it was beginning to chafe.

_What kind of Klingon am I becoming? I am growing soft._ Kort thought in disgust. _My heart is filled with hope again, _he realised, _Perhaps my meeting Hayley Galloway was fortuitous._

With that pleasant thought in his mind, he performed his nightly rituals and proceeded to retire for the night.

* * *

Daggit was in the gym. He hated leaving Parva behind but knew he had to get used to it now. It had been a long time since he'd had someone waiting for him to return to. That had been a small element of their relationship when she'd still been on the team but this was different. Parva was no longer the independent woman she'd once been. Now she honestly needed him in more than a figurative sense.

He beat the punching bag with all the force he could muster. Since Daggit was in superb physical condition, he had a lot of power at his command. The rest of the people in the gym were staying clear of him, well aware that something was driving him. After thirty minutes with the bag, Daggit stepped back and decided to do some weight training.

_I can't die_. he thought for the first time in fifteen years. He had too much at stake now to expire. This new attitude of his would take some time to adjust to. He wondered how his psychological conditioning would accommodate it, if it would accommodate it at all.

Forty-five minutes later, Daggit left the gym and headed for his quarters. It would a cold and lonely night for him. The first of many yet to come.

* * *

Delaney answered his comm and he eagerly smiled, "Hannah! It's great to see you. I didn't expect to see you again so soon. The computer said it was in the wee hours of the morning in Sinherra."

"It is." Grace informed him, "I'm aboard the _Obsidian_. We've got a break in the case and we're off to pursue it."

"Yeah." Delaney looked concerned, "Admiral Johnson briefed the senior staff as to the situation. He also informed us that your SID team was leading the investigation. We're on stand-by to assist."

"It seems everyone is." Grace chuckled, and then seeing Delaney's confusion, she explained, "Commander Vaughn and the _Defiant _are waiting to back us up when we make a move."

Delaney's smile returned, "Vaughn's a good tactician and the _Defiant's _a tough ship. You're in good hands."

"You looked awfully glad to see me." Grace commented, "Even with what I said before?"

Delaney rubbed the back of his head, "I wanted to talk to you about that."

_Uh oh, _Grace thought, _Here we go._

"I don't want to be with anyone else." Delaney said firmly, "I think we have a shot at something special and I want to pursue it. Sure, we could just stay friends and we might end up that way but for now I want something more."

Grace lit up, "How much more?"

"As much as you're willing to give. Who knows where that will lead us?"

"So you still want to go sailing?" Grace asked.

"Yes." Delaney enthusiastically nodded, "The Caribbean is very romantic."

"We could use that." Grace sighed, "Nine months apart is beginning to feel like a long time."

"I know." Delaney grinned, "It surprised me too."

"Any way we can cut down on the absences?" Grace hoped.

"Not that I can see." Delaney glumly answered, "One of us would have to give up our 'extended' family and I don't see either of us doing that yet."

"We could both leave and start over." Grace suggested.

"Why don't we wait and see how things go before we make any permanent plans." Delaney counselled.

Grace bit her lip before answering, "You're right. Just getting swept away by the possibilities."

"Wait until we're alone on Emily's boat." Delaney grinned, "I'll show you swept away then."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Grace warned.

"Don't worry. I'll fulfil this one." Delaney promised, "I've had a couple of months to envision our reunion. I have plans."

"Good." Grace's smile was beatific, "I like a man that takes charge."

"I'm not known for being passive." Delaney's grin grew.

"So I've noticed." Grace smile became impish, "I did, however, evade capture at our first meeting."

"I figured that trick of yours out." Delaney revealed, "I'd like to see you repeat that manoeuvre on me."

"Oh really?" Grace's eyebrow's rose, "Is this a challenge?"

Delaney had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "You'll have to meet up with me to find out."

Grace laughed, "It's a date."

"Good." Delaney sounded very resound.

"I'm I keeping you awake?" Grace suddenly asked.

Delaney grinned, "No more than you."

Grace bit her lower lip, "I'd better go. I have a full day tomorrow."

Delaney reluctantly nodded, "So do I. I'll comm you as soon as I hear the case is closed."

Still sad, Grace brightened somewhat, "Gives me something to look forward to."

"Until then." Delaney said and signed off.

Grace moved over to the bed and sat down on its edge. Her mind whirled. Delaney wanted to _be _with her. He was serious and he was committed.

All of this was new to Grace. She wished T'Kir were still up. She could use some relational advice right about now. She wasn't trying to leap ahead and start drawing conclusions and making plans but the temptation was nearly overwhelming.

She could plan her reunion with Delaney and she started envisioning meeting up with him again. The thoughts brought a smile to her face. She felt very warm and contented. _I don't know what these feelings are, _Grace thought to herself, _but I _like _them._

Grace stood. Moving towards the bathroom, she began removing her clothes. She pulled a tank top out of a dresser drawer and slid it on after she'd shucked her bra. Padding into the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and washed her face. She let her hair out of the banana clip that held it and she brushed it out.

Finally, she returned to the bed and slid under the covers. Still wearing a smile on her face she ordered the lights off. Her thoughts and dreams were filled with memories of Ian Delaney.

* * *

Radil and Collins were walking down the corridor and Radil stopped, "Here's my quarters, "Good night, Abby."

Collins shifted from foot to foot, looking distinctly nervous. Never having seen her Deputy nervous before, Radil asked why she seemed unsettled. Collins responded by stepping forward, throwing her arms around Radil's neck and kissing her.

Radil pushed Collins back by the waist, "Abby, I'm flattered. I really am but I think I've given you the wrong impression. I'm a one man woman."

Collins sighed, "I knew better. I just have a bad habit of falling for my superiors."

"You had an affair with your last superior officer?" Radil asked.

Collins glumly nodded.

"What was she like?" Radil wondered.

"_He _was a lot like you." Collins explained, "He was very decisive and honestly cared for his junior officers. He was promoted and posted elsewhere halfway across the quadrant. I volunteered to be placed aboard the _Obsidian _and the rest is history."

"I'm sorry I can't be more to you but I _am_ your friend." Radil insisted.

"I really need to get over my little hang up with superior officers." Collins wore a wry smile, "You really are beautiful though. It was easy to fall for you. Sure you don't want to try one night with me?"

"Been there, done that." Radil revealed, "Wasn't my thing. I just felt awkward and confused. I'll stick with men."

"Too bad." Collins grinned, "We could be great together."

"I'll tell you what," Radil offered, "we'll revisit this conversation again in a year and see how we both feel by then."

Collins was still disappointed but she agreed to Radil's proposal, "I'll take whatever you can give."

"Good night Abby." Radil warmly smiled.

"Good night, Jenrya. See you tomorrow." Collins waved and strode away.

_Good kid_. Radil thought as Collins left. She entered her quarters and prepared for bed.

* * *

"Hello?" Riker called into the lab as he stood in the open doorway, "Lees?"

"In here." Danan called out from behind the screen separating her office from the rest of the astrometrics lab.

"Still at it?" Riker enquired.

"Almost done." Danan proudly replied.

"How would you like a total body massage when you're done?" Riker asked.

"Have you been talking to Brin?" Danan asked. Seeing Riker's confusion, she waved the question away, "Never mind, Tom. It sounds lovely. I'll be with you in a few."

"Take your time." Riker picked up her tray and dishes, "I'll just take care of these. Call me when you're ready."

"I'll come to your quarters if that's all right." Danan informed him.

Riker happily smiled, "Sounds perfect." With that said, he departed.

Danan smiled and shook her head.

_He's persistent. I'll give him that. The attentions nice though and I'm finding myself drawn to him more and more. Things could get interesting in the near future._ she thought.

Shrugging, she returned her focus to her treatise.

* * *

Dracas showered after returning from the gym. He'd seen Daggit in there but the other man seemed possessed by some demon or another. Dracas had allowed him to exercise in peace while he worked out his personal issues.

Hal Dracas had used the gym just enough to keep his wiry frame lean. He'd never been overly concerned with developing his physique. Dracas was a trained combatant. His body was literally a weapon.

Dracas felt very akin to Daggit. They'd both been bred as soldiers, one from "birth" and the other from the rebirth of augmentation. Joachim knew Hal Dracas had been Daggit's closest friend and therefore he kept a distance out of respect for the dead. Dracas was used to uncomfortable relationships owing to Nova Roman society and he didn't want a repeat of that experience.

The SID team and the crew of the _Obsidian_ as a whole had warmly embraced Dracas and his origins didn't seem to bother anyone. The only awkwardness stemmed from his filling his progenitor's shoes. Even that had become a rare occurrence as he'd worked beside the ship's engineers during the _Obsidian's _reconstruction. The SPYards had welcomed him with open arms. They'd been fascinated with his tales of "alien" technology.

Roman stoicism prevented Dracas from mentioning to anyone how lonely he was. His duty was clear though. Emperor Alaric had assigned him to observing life in the Federation and to the crew of the _Obsidian_. Macen's word was sacrosanct. He could not shirk his duty to his Emperor or Alaric's chosen representative.

Kiv Rever had presented him with a fascinating opportunity. Learning about his progenitor from those closest to him had been Dracas' goal since he'd arrived aboard the Outbound Venture's surveyor. Now he was being granted an opportunity to glean information from the most important person in the elder Dracas' life.

Dracas secretly wanted to form a friendship with Rever. He wanted desperately to reach out to someone and Rever had been close to Hal Dracas so there was a chance he could extend the hand of fellowship to Joachim as well. Based on outward appearances, Hal had chosen well. Rever was a very attractive man. Dracas had been instantly attracted to him but he stifled that response because pursuing the boyfriend of your "father" was downright morbid.

Dracas shed his clothes and slid under the bed covers. He lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered what he would dream about tonight. With a sigh, he knew that it would be the same vision that he dreamt of every night. _Home_.

* * *

The comm panel bleeped and then bleeped again. Macen groaned and rolled over. His feet hit the floor and he reached down and picked up his boxer shorts. He pulled them up as he rose. T'Kir put her head under the pillow with an exasperated huff. Macen smiled and went over to the comm set.

Upon activation, it showed Amanda Drake's grim visage, "Brin. Have I caught you at a bad time?"

T'Kir rose to a seated position and wrapped the covers around her. Drake saw this in the background and gasped, "Omigod. I didn't realise…"

Macen turned around, saw what Drake had seen and started to laugh, "You're fine, Amanda. If you'd called a couple of hours ago, it would have been…inopportune."

"Inopportune?" Drake's mouth quirked into a grin, "I'll have to remember that one."

"I hate to be rude, but you do have a reason for calling don't you?" Macen stifled a yawn.

"We also had an SID team on Bolshevik when this occurred." Drake informed him, "Their line of inquiry has led to the same place yours has. Of course, it took giving them your line of reasoning for a few of the details to come to light but the pattern's the same."

"And this means what?" Macen wondered.

"I've issued a warrant for Pytor Boromov." Drake announced, "Local law enforcement will now cooperate with you."

"Macen's eyebrow quirked, "What made you change your mind?"

"You were convincing but the corroboration solidifies your conclusions." Drake elaborated, "We need Boromov to talk and we need it now."

"We'll be in the Magna system in twenty-two hours." Macen revealed, "Do you have anyone closer?"

"There are no starships closer." Drake replied, "I already checked. You're our best bet for success."

"Lucky me." Macen grumped.

"You know you love it when the fate of the Federation hangs on your shoulders." Drake said with an evil chuckle.

"Believe it or not, Amanda, I never set out to become a hero." Macen admitted.

"And that's why Maquis survivors the quadrant over idolise you, T'Kir and Lisea?" Drake enquired.

Macen squirmed, "That was different."

Drake shook her head and smiled, "You're doing the same things now, Brin. You've just added a legal gloss to it but the actions are essentially the same."

"Then why do you keep me around?" Macen was feeling defensive.

"Because it's your destiny to save the Federation from itself." Drake declared.

"Isn't that a bit grandiose?" Macen retorted.

"Maybe." Drake allowed, "It's also true. You think outside the box. You see things the way they were viewed a hundred years ago. We don't teach people to think in such twisted, convoluted ways any more. The Federation, and Starfleet, need people like you to ensure that we don't succumb to our own presuppositions."

"I'm not a saviour, Amanda." Macen argued.

"No." Drake conceded, "Nor do I want you to get a messianic complex. You're an instrument and a valuable one at that."

"Tell that to the Council of Five and Edward Jellico in particular." Macen grated.

"You'll have to excuse Eddie." Drake chastised Macen, "He's a product of his generation. He's very rigid and committed to law and order. Your methods tend to violate regulations and that goes against his grain."

"Too bad for him." Macen commented.

"And you claim to have an open mind." Drake reprimanded him.

"Is this conversation going somewhere?" Macen groaned.

"Just be careful." Drake urged, "I have a bad feeling about this case."

"Getting superstitious?" Macen wondered.

"Intuition has saved my life more than once." Drake divulged, "My guts are screaming 'watch out' right now."

"So are mine." Macen admitted, "That's why I pressed to get Boromov. I'm not certain what will happen if he can't provide the information we want or steer us towards someone who can."

"We'll cross that threshold if and when it happens." Drake said resolutely.

"You're right." Macen conceded. Yawning, he asked, "Is there anything else?"

Drake smiled, "I'll let you go now."

"Thanks." Macen wearily smiled and terminated the conversation.

He returned to the bed. T'Kir was too tired to glare but her unhappiness was manifest, "Can we expect any more calls?"

"Not tonight." Macen assured her.

"Good." T'Kir huffed and flopped onto her back, "I'm going to be dead until morning. Say whatever you need to say now."

Macen grinned and leaned over to kiss her on the lips, "I love you."

T'Kir brightened, "I love you too."

"Good night." Macen said and removed his shorts. He slid under the covers and turned on his side. T'Kir rolled over and nestled her back into him. He placed an arm around her waist and they both slowly drifted off to contented sleep.

* * *

Drake leaned back in her chair and stared at the view screen. Although reassured by Macen's caution in this case, she was still unsettled. Macen tended to draw high profile cases and earn equally high profile criticism. _That is, _Drake amended, _as high profile as the shadowy world of Starfleet Intelligence gets. _

Macen's cavalier attitude towards regulations and protocol were widely known and barely tolerated. What disturbed her was his recent behaviour. Nine months ago, when Outbound Ventures itself had been a target, Macen had skirted the borders of legality. Two suspects were currently defending themselves in court on the basis that the information and confessions they'd provided were derived at by the use of torture.

Whether the charge was true or not was immaterial. The simple fact that it was conceivably true bothered Drake. She tended to give Macen a blank cheque. That policy could very well be misguided. She had to revisit each case and review Macen's use of force in each one.

His track record was one of nearly unparalleled success for her department. Only one or two other SID teams had achieved as much in so short a time. Drake went to the replicator and got herself a cup of tea. Tea was soothing and might help her out of her inner turmoil.

Macen was an independent creature. It was what made him the investigator he was and also the pain in the ass that he could become. Drake hated the thought of trying to curtail him. He'd resigned on more than one occasion over previous efforts to do just that.

Drake didn't like any of her choices as she sipped her tea. The allegations of torture _had _to be investigated. She also knew Macen would be resistant to any such probe. It was a matter she had to carefully broach.

With one final sigh she sat her teacup down and started reviewing the files of potential investigators. She wanted to keep it an internal matter. If Internal Affairs got a hold of this it could easily escalate into an ugly scenario. It was far better to assign one of her agents that had come up through IA and assign him or her to the case and let them determine the facts impartially.

Drake ran through a list of names and one file stood out. Lt. Commander Michelle Prentiss stood out. She'd come to the Division during Macen's three-year absence and had never met him or any member of his team. Now all that was left was to determine if she'd been influenced by his cult of personality here at SID HQ.

Feeling better, Drake asked Ambril to request Prentiss' presence. She wanted the Lt. Commander's take on the case before she was assigned to it. Her reaction to the testimony given thus far would be revealing. Drake felt a little guilty about summoning an investigator to ride herd over Macen but she knew the law demanded it. And Macen was sworn, even as a privateer, to uphold the law.

* * *

Kara watched Astris on the monitor and frowned. _Am I doing the right thing? _she wondered, _I'm handing over the woman I love to the Order. I know they mean her no harm but what if that changes? Could I live with myself?_

Kara shook her head and realised, _No. I couldn't._ Whatever happened over the course of the next week, she had to find a way to protect Astris. Nothing else mattered.

Her devotion to the Cause had never wavered before. She still felt it was her people's destiny to rise to greatness amongst the Federation's many stars but she wouldn't see that rise being built upon Astris' corpse. Nothing was worth that. She'd defy the Proconsul herself if that's what was required.

Resolve hardening, Kara's attention returned to Astris. Her heart broke as her partner paced like a caged animal. She knew she should turn back now but if she did she would either face imprisonment or permanent separation from Astris. Neither fate was acceptable.

Kara settled back in her seat and willed herself to press on. She would first perform her duty and then protect Astris. That would have to be the way of things. She had no other choice. She hadn't had a choice since she'd left the homeworld fifteen years before in fulfilment of the Plan. Now it was time for fruition and it would be sweet indeed.


	9. Chapter 9

127

The deckplates had finally stopped shuddering and Astris looked at her wrist chrono. She'd been aboard this ship for nearly twenty hours. Wherever they'd gone to, it wasn't right next to Bajor. They probably weren't even inside the damned Bajoran sector. She rose from her seated position on the bed, straightened out her spine, and squared her shoulders.

The door crankily slid open and Kara stood facing her. Kara's face was etched with concern. Her eyes seemed on the verge of tears. Tears, yes, but they were also resolved. Astris' faint hope that Kara would change her mind faded to a dull regret.

"Are you ready to transport to the surface?" Kara asked regretfully.

"Of course I'm not ready." Astris snorted, "What do you plan to do about that?"

Kara stepped aside and snapped her fingers. Jared and Kelv appeared, poised and ready. Astris didn't want to press her luck with the two renegade Militia constables. With a shrug and a sigh she stepped forward.

Astris resignedly shuffled forward. The two constables were pressed up against each other in the doorframe. Astris suddenly surged forward. She drove her knee up into Kelv's groin. With her foot planted on the deck she thrust the palm of her hand into Jared's nose. As Kelv folded into the quarters Astris had occupied, Jared fell backwards. He hit his head on the bulkhead as he fell to the deck.

Astris leapt over Jared's dazed form and found herself staring down the barrel of a phaser. Kara stood leaned up against the bulkhead, seemingly for support, and tears glistened in her eyes. Astris detected a slight tremble in Kara's lower lip that no one else would have recognised.

"Don't." Kara implored, "This is already difficult enough. I'll protect you, I swear. _Nothing _will happen to you."

"Save it for the rubes, sister, I'm not buying." Astris snarled.

Kara mouthed the words and Astris impatiently spoke again, "It's an old human expression. The gist of it is that you'll have to shoot me because I don't believe your lies any more."

Kara looked grief stricken, "I'm so sorry."

Kara's gun wavered and Astris had a wavering hope blossom within her, "Gena?"

Kara's grip firmed up and she depressed the trigger. Yellow energy erupted from the barrel and struck Astris squarely in the chest. She crumpled onto Jared's legs. The Militia sergeant vainly tried to get out from underneath the Bajoran 1st Minister's prone form.

"You know," Jared glanced up at Kara, "for a moment there, I didn't think you'd be able to do it."

Kara's voice caught as her grief closed her throat, "F…for a moment I wasn't…wasn't able to."

Jared realised that his leader was on the verge of an emotional breakdown, "Kelv! Give me a hand."

The larger Bajoran groaned from inside of the secure quarters and Jared grew angry, "Damn it Kelv! I need your help and I need it now!"

There was a scraping sound as Kelv gathered himself up. He lurched to his feet and staggered out into the corridor. A viscous smile crossed his face when he saw Astris' prone form. He drew back his foot and Kara's husky voice called him off.

"I shot her, Kelv. It'll only be an afterthought to shoot you."

Kelv hesitated. Kara was clearly unhinged. For all he knew, she'd thumbed up the phaser's power setting. His foot returned to the deck and she lowered the phaser.

A lopsided smile lifted the corner of Kara's mouth as a demented gleam filled her eyes, "Pick her up and help Jared carry her to the transporter."

Kelv hesitated and Kara snapped the phaser up, aimed at him, "Now isn't the time for hesitation, Corporal, nor is it the time for mishandling your cargo. If she is roughly treated, it'll come out of _your _hide."

Getting underneath her, Kelv scooped Astris up into his arms. He rose to his feet, muttered a curse, and began to follow Kara as she led the way to the transporter room. Jared followed, nursing his throbbing head. So far, this day had not gone according to plan. Kara's growing instability concerned him.

* * *

Shift change came, finding Macen and T'Kir in his Ready Room. The door chimed and Macen instructed the computer to open it. Riker stepped in and smiled.

"Hard at it?" he asked jovially.

"We've planned our approach strategy." Macen replied, "It should be fairly simple."

Riker took a seat and crossed his legs, "If memory serves, Boromov eluded you once before."

Macen was chagrined, "An oversight on our part. We didn't know that he was allied with Cell 51. Hell, we didn't even know Cell 51 existed at that time."

"He won't pull that _frinxing_ transporter trick again." T'Kir confidently declared, "We've called the Magnan authorities and arranged for an inhibitor net to be cast over Boromov's residence."

"Good thinking." Riker stroked his beard, "Are you going to brief Daggit and Radil before we reach Magna VII?"

"No." Macen firmly declared, "They're not attached to the landing party."

Riker lurched forward, "You're at least taking Dracas or Kort aren't you?"

Macen shook his head, "Nope."

"What about Hannah or Lees?" Riker pleaded.

"This collar is ours buster." T'Kir said resolutely, "No flatfoot or teammate is bagging him but us."

Riker scratched his head, "I _think_ I know what you said."

"If you think we're going on this bust alone, you'd be right." Macen clarified. His determination was resolute.

"My God Brin." Riker exclaimed in desperation, "Starfleet requires that the CO of the ship beam down with an armed escort."

Macen grew perturbed, "_How_ many times do I have to explain that we're _not_ in Starfleet. This ship gets run the way _I_ want it to. If I want to beam down to a planet without an escort that's my prerogative."

Riker sagged back into his seat in defeat, "All right. Just to let you know, we'll be arriving in the Magna system in eight hours."

"Perfect." Macen grinned, "Enough time to get a bite and some sleep."

"Sure." Riker bitterly commented, "Eat, drink and be merry for in eight hours we die."

Macen frowned in frustration, "Have a little faith, Tom. T'Kir and I have overcome tougher challenges than this."

"And they started off simply too." Riker groused.

Macen rose and came around the desk. Patting Riker on the shoulder, he grinned encouragingly, "C'mon and get some dinner. Chef supposedly whipped up another culinary masterpiece."

"We'll see." Riker grumped as he rose to his feet.

"For Fates' sake, Tom, cheer up." Macen chastised him, "It's not the end of the universe as we know it."

"I'll reserve judgement on that." Riker retorted.

"Get over it, Tom." T'Kir insisted, "We'll be fine."

They left the room with Macen and T'Kir engaged in some playful banter. Riker remained sullen. They boarded the lift and exited when it arrived at the deck hosting the Team Room. The food exceeded every expectation. Even Riker started to smile by meal's end.

* * *

Macen donned his SOBs and T'Kir clothed herself in her favourite garb. She was decked out in her duster, matching leather pants and mid-calf combat boots. A red zipper front blouse finished off the ensemble. Both wore their holster/utility belts.

Having checked all the gear in their belts pouches, they exited their quarters and headed for the main Transporter Room. Standing outside the door of the transporter Daggit and Radil stood geared for a small war. Macen shook his head as he approached. T'Kir grew incensed.

"We're coming." Daggit announced.

"_Frinx_ you, Rab!" T'Kir hotly declared.

Daggit bristled and went silent. Radil explained, "Riker told us what you were planning. There are too many things that can go wrong. Boromov's no dummy. He's bound to have his exits covered."

"Are you suggesting that T'Kir and I can't bring in one man?" Macen asked coldly.

"No." Radil faltered, "But he did escape the last time the two of you tried to arrest him."

"This time he doesn't have Cell 51 to rescue him." Macen replied angrily.

"A technicality." Radil shrugged.

"A _huge_ difference." Macen determined, "Boromov is reduced to his own resources. The Magnan authorities are backing us up. Case closed."

"You're trusting _local_ law enforcement?" Daggit asked in disbelief.

"Yes." Macen grated, "We are. As I already said, case closed. Now I'm giving you a direct order: Go back to bed."

"At least have us on stand-by in case something goes wrong." Daggit argued.

Macen thought about it and then nodded, "All right. You're the ready reserve. Satisfied?"

"Barely." Radil sourly grunted.

"If you'll excuse us," T'Kir huffed, "we have a date with Boromov."

Shoulders slumping, Radil and Daggit stepped aside to let the pair pass. As the Transporter Room doors slid shut, Daggit turned on Radil.

"Why are we letting them go?" he railed.

"If you hadn't noticed, they're determined to get into trouble." Radil calmly answered, "There's only one way to deal with such determination: we go around it."

Daggit grew suspicious, "What do you mean?"

"We beam down to the surface and stay close by so that we can provide instant back-up when called." Radil explained.

A sly grin spread across Daggit's rough hewn features, "I like it."

"We have to go to the surface." Radil elaborated, "Macen's arranged for transport inhibitors to be set up around Boromov's penthouse. The only way to respond is by already being there."

"Think they've beamed down yet?" Daggit wondered.

"Of course." Radil brightly smiled, "Shall we be on our way?"

"After you." Daggit ushered her on.

* * *

Macen and T'Kir materialised on the roof of Boromov's building. He owned the entire tower that housed an exclusive list of native and alien celebrities. Boromov reserved the penthouse for himself. He and the other residents shared the roof, which served as the landing point for their antigrav aircars.

A police aircar was parked in the open landing pad in the middle of the roof. The residents' parking slots circled the open space. Most of the cars were present but a few slots were currently empty. A Magnan police officer left the cruiser and approached Macen and T'Kir.

The grey skinned Magnan woman possessed jet-black hair and like most Magnans was very petite. Her eyes were turquoise, her nose was flattened and her lips were razor thin. Her face was angular, her chin coming almost to a point. Her uniform was black with gold piping. It vaguely reminded Macen of the "Horatio Hornblower" uniforms that were in Starfleet vogue when he'd joined the service.

The officer wore a Type II phaser slung loosely on her hip. Her casual manner with it indicated either an easy familiarity with the weapon…or a criminal ignorance of the necessary kinesics required for a quick response. Magna VII had been a member of the Federation for over a century now. A highly peaceable planet to begin with, it was likely the need for such devices had evaporated long ago.

"Greetings." The Magnan officer held up a fist, "I welcome you to Magna VII. I am Lieutenant Helrice. I am pleased that we can be of assistance today."

Macen bowed at the waist but kept his eyes locked on Helrice's, "It is my honour to serve with you on this urgent matter. Your aid will assist us in dealing with the brewing crisis facing the Federation."

Concern radiated from Helrice's face, "I have witnessed the reports of the leaders' kidnappings. Thankfully the culprits did not strike here."

"I think that was planned." Macen shared, "Chances are that it was a ruse to allay suspicions towards our suspect."

Helrice frowned, "Mr. Boromov has been a model citizen since his arrival on Magna VII. I find it difficult to believe that he is connected to these criminals."

"Boromov has been associated with various terrorists and revolutionary factions for years." Macen informed Helrice, "The Federation Council was well aware of his past when they granted him a conditional pardon. If he has violated the terms of that pardon then he will be tried for _all _of his crimes."

Helrice pursed her lips, "I see. We are ready to begin at your command."

"Are the transport inhibitors in place?" Macen enquired.

"Yes." Helrice nodded once, "We placed them at all four corners of the roof. The field extends down several metres. It should block a site to site transport from his penthouse."

"Excellent." Macen was pleased. His expression grew more uneasy and he gestured at Helrice's sidearm, "Have you ever used that thing?"

Helrice smiled, "I practice with it on a weekly basis."

"That's not the same as having fired at a living being. Have you ever faced that scenario? Have any of your officers?" Macen expanded the question.

Helrice grew pensive, "No. It has not been necessary for nearly a century now."

"That's what I was afraid of." Macen frowned, "Have your people maintain peripheral positions. We'll handle Boromov."

"Have you ever fired on another sentient?" Helrice demanded to know.

T'Kir gave her a feral smile and brushed back the folds of her coat so that its length was held back by her holster, "What d'you think? That these were for show?"

"It…it is unconscionable to harm another being." Helrice was stunned.

"Sometimes it's a necessity." Macen firmly replied.

"Not on Magna VII it is not!" Helrice hotly insisted and then sniffed, "And here I thought you were agents of the Federation."

Macen met her eyes and fiercely gazed into them, "We are. Sometimes the preservation of collective security requires force. That requirement extends to agents willing to accomplish the mission regardless of personal cost."

Helrice shook her head sadly, "I cannot fathom a mission worthy of the sacrifice of personal integrity."

"Let's pray that you never do, Lieutenant." Macen said with due sincerity.

Helrice shifted uncomfortably, "The turbolift has been secured to your commands. The Police override will grant you access to the penthouse."

Macen nodded, "Thank you. Inform your people that we're beginning the operation."

Helrice escorted them to the lift, "I want you to know that any use of force will be thoroughly investigated by my staff."

"Fair `nuff." T'Kir remarked as she took hold of Macen's arm and drug him into the lift, "If you'll excuse us, we have a suspect to question."

* * *

After the lift doors closed Macen gave T'Kir a quizzical glance and she shrugged, "She's gonna launch a probe no matter what we do."

Macen sighed, "It'll be Amanda's problem not ours."

T'Kir grinned, "Too bad."

Macen activated the lift; "You might want to give her a break once in awhile."

T'Kir lifted her chin, "I will as soon as you do."

Macen grimaced, "Touché."

* * *

The lift doors opened and both Macen and T'Kir had their hands hovering over their phasers. Macen carefully stepped out. His eyes searched the room, evaluating potential threats. T'Kir cautiously followed.

"This guy knows how to live." she stopped and whistled as her eyes drank in the opulence of the sitting room. She shook her head, "And here I've been thinking that his quarters in the Royale were nice. This blows them away."

Still alert and poised for instant action, Macen had to admit that T'Kir was right. The room _was_ spectacular. The walls were made of brushed steel. The floors were made up of real wood planks. The Fates alone knew how he'd acquired the lumber for that.

The sofa and chairs were made of black leather. The coffee table was composed of a rich dark wood. Rich tapestries and rare paintings were displayed. Macen approached a painting and examined it carefully.

"These are real." he observed, "They're not holographic representations."

"Of course they're not." Boromov said as he confidently entered the room, "Holograms are vulgar."

Boromov's confidence wavered as he recognised Macen and T'Kir, "What do you want? My pardon has not been rescinded. I've done nothing wrong."

Macen's hands went to his hips and he frowned, "I'd like to believe you but the mere fact that the first thing you did was protest your innocence makes me suspicious. We just want to ask you a few questions. If you answer them you'll be granted immunity from any potential prosecutions your confession may lead to."

Boromov smiled and shook his head, "Very generous but there is a problem. You see, I am innocent."

A smirk grew across Macen's face, "Once again I don't believe you."

Boromov's hands flew out of his pockets. In one, he gripped a Type I phaser. He fired as soon as his arm was level. He swept the room in an arc.

Macen dove behind the couch. T'Kir dropped to one knee behind a chair. Her phaser cleared the holster as she crouched. The particle beam fired over their positions, striking the wall containing the lift access.

The sound of retreating footsteps filled the room as T'Kir came around the side of the chair. Macen sprang up from behind the couch, his phaser gripped in both hands. Boromov had vacated the sitting room. Macen and T'Kir cautiously moved into the living room/library. There was still no sign of the arms supplier. There were two doorways exiting the living room.

One led to a hallway. Doors leading to various bedrooms were plainly visible. T'Kir pulled her tricorder out and took a reading.

"Nothin'." she reported. Turning, she scanned the opposite direction, "I'm picking up a lifesign."

Macen approached the doorway with his phaser held in both hands. He stood at an angle as he aimed at the revealed kitchen space. Pots and pans hung from a space above an island located near the sink, stove and cryo unit. It was the area of an anachronistic enthusiast in the age of replicated food, an indulgence of the prosperous.

Holding his phaser out in front of him, Macen leaned into the kitchen space. His eyes and gun hand swept the dining area. No one was visible. At the opposite end of the space was a set of doors leading to the walk-in pantry. One of the French doors was open.

T'Kir still held her tricorder aloft. Holding the device in her right hand, she used her forefinger to point at the pantry. Macen urged her forward with a cutting motion with his hand. They both stepped out from behind the island, each to their own side.

Boromov suddenly appeared in the pantry's entrance. He hurriedly fired his phaser at the pursuing couple. The beam went between them and struck a pan, producing sparks. Boromov ducked back behind the other door. Macen and T'Kir fired at the closed door.

Splinters erupted from the assaulted door. Macen rushed forward and stopped at the edge of the open doorway. He was poised to shoot Boromov only the Russian wasn't there. T'Kir sprinted and met Macen. She leaned in and took a look.

"He's gone." she observed.

"Really?" Macen remarked sarcastically, "I hadn't noticed."

"Did ya notice the door located in that recessed portion of the pantry?" she asked as she took a sensor reading.

"Yup." Macen nodded once, "He must have gone through there."

"Brilliant deduction." T'Kir quipped, "You must have been an Intelligence Officer once upon a time."

Macen grimaced but remained silent as T'Kir reported her findings, "That door and whatever's behind it is shielded. I can't get a reading."

Macen stepped forward and depressed the button that opened the door. Nothing happened. Macen frowned.

"It's locked. How long would it take you to crack the security code?"

T'Kir shrugged, "Depends on how complex the encryption protocol is."

Macen's scowl deepened, "We don't have time to waste." He pulled a shaped charge from his belt. It resembled an old fashioned padlock. Devised by Dracas, it was a miniature matter/antimatter bomb. Macen adhered the bomb to the side of the door. He rotated the dial face of the bomb, setting the timer.

Macen and T'Kir vacated the pantry and ran behind the island and ducked behind it. The bomb went off and the French doors flew across the kitchen. Macen and T'Kir rose and looked through the dust. Beyond the ruined door was a stairway leading to the roof.

"C'mon!" Macen barked and ran through the exposed doorway and up the stairwell. T'Kir was on his heels as he reached an open hatch. The hatch was located on the far side of the rooftop. An empty car slot lay next to it.

Macen ran towards the Police cruiser situated in the centre of the rooftop landing area. Helrice and a deputy huddled behind its fender. Macen and T'Kir covered the distance between the hatch and the cruiser.

"What does his car look like?" Macen demanded.

"He…he shot at us." Helrice was in shock and babbling. Macen turned to her subordinate, who was much calmer and coherent.

"What kind of car is he driving?" Macen grabbed hold of the patrolman's shoulders.

"A navy blue BMW." the shaken officer answered, "He went east."

"Thank you." Macen replied, "Get the Lieutenant clear of the car. We'll bring it back later."

"What?" the befuddled officer asked.

Macen got in on the passenger side of the car. T'Kir was already in the driver's seat. She activated the car's antigravs and the car bounced upward. The Magnan Police officers scrambled away. T'Kir activated the traditional yellow and green pursuit lights.

"Which way?" T'Kir asked.

"East." Macen supplied, "My guess is that he's in the traffic lane closest to the tower's top."

"We'll find out." T'Kir vowed and gunned the throttle. The car leapt off the rooftop and she guided it into the nearby flow of traffic. She pushed the car to its top speed and she ploughed through traffic. The law abiding Magnans dutifully pulled over and came to a rest. T'Kir raced past them.

Up ahead, a blue BMW sped up in an effort to outpace the approaching cruiser. As fast as the BMW was, the Police Special was faster. T'Kir wore a feral smile.

"I think we've found him."

Macen activated the car's forward phaser array. He locked the phasers on target and fired. A particle beam struck the BMW in the boot. Macen readjusted his targeting range and the next shot hit the car's lower edge. The rear antigrav generator began trailing smoke.

Boromov suddenly dove the car straight down. T'Kir followed. Boromov flew into the lower lane of traffic, dodging left, right, up and down as he careened around the traffic. T'Kir calculated the odds and dove straight through milling crowd of startled drivers. Boromov began to trim out and came to cruise at ten metres off the ground. T'Kir swooped in behind him.

"He's using the crowd below as a shield." Macen growled, "He's thinking I won't fire."

"Will you?" T'Kir wondered.

"Damn right I will." Macen resumed his barrage.

The rear generator gave out and the rear of the car dipped down. The back bumper sparked as it was dragged across the ground. Boromov gave up and parked the car. He got out and began to run on foot while T'Kir brought the cruiser to a rest. Macen and T'Kir jumped out of the Police car and gave chase.

Macen came to a halt and yelled, "Freeze!"

The Magnan pedestrians dove for cover and Macen fired, shooting Boromov in the back. The fleeing suspect fell forward and scraped along the ground as his forward momentum was expended. Macen and T'Kir ran to his side.

Boromov was still conscious and was already regaining the use of his limbs. Macen quickly disarmed him before he could use the phaser again. T'Kir rolled Boromov over onto his back. His face bled from the scrapes suffered during his fall.

"Do what you want." Boromov coughed, "I won't talk."

"We don't need you to talk." Macen wore a cruel smile, "My wife can rip the information from you without your permission. Surely you've heard of her abilities?"

Fear permeated Boromov's eyes, "I'll take the deal."

"The deal was nullified by your fleeing." Macen coldly informed him, "Now you'll get credit for cooperating."

Boromov seemed on the edge of arguing but his anger quickly dissipated, "I'll right but you have to protect me. They'll kill me once they find out."

"No, they won't." Macen assured him, "I guarantee it."

"All right." Boromov sighed, "I'll tell you what I know, but first…"


	10. Chapter 10

142

The transporter beam released as Astris, Kara, Jared and Kelv rematerialised. Astris' eyes went wide. They'd arrived in a huge, central courtyard. Two massive statues stood side by side. They each held an individual planetary sphere and jointly held a central planet, which was enlarged for effect. The statues were of a Bajoran and a Cardassian working in concert.

"When were these erected?" Astris asked Kara.

Kara followed her gaze, studied the statues and then gave a noncommittal shrug, "Probably forty or fifty years ago. It was before I was born."

Astris started to hold up a hand to point at the monuments and she stammered, "B…b…but that's im…impossible!"

Kara met her eyes levelly, "More is possible than you will ever know. Soon you will learn some of what has been accomplished here."

Astris stared at her in transfixed wonder. Was Kara a collaborator? Could anyone collaborate with a fallen regime? Could she still serve an Occupation that had ended thirteen years ago? Astris' mind was whirling as she was led into the tower whose entrance the statues guarded.

"Do not fear, Beru." Kara said soothingly, "The Proconsul awaits you. She only wish to plead her case. No harm will come to you or the others."

"What others?" Astris was suddenly alarmed. Narrowing her eyes, she pressed Kara, "_What_ 'others', Gena?"

Kara seemed uncertain and then her resolve shored up; "You'll find out soon enough. Now, let's go into the Tower of Cooperation."

"What if I refuse?" Astris folded her arms across her chest.

"Kelv," Kara sighed, "throw her over your shoulder and carry her."

Kelv grinned. Starting forward, he reached out for Astris. Astris stepped back and held her hands out in front of her.

"All right!" she angrily exclaimed, "You called my bluff. I'll go peacefully."

"That would be a first." Kara murmured.

"What was that crack?" Astris demanded to know.

"Oh, nothing." Kara replied demurely.

"Better not be." Astris growled, "Remember, only _one _of us here isn't guilty of betrayal."

"I'm certain that you'll be reminding us of that well into the evening." Kara remarked, "You'll soon have other pressing matters weighing on your mind."

"Enough of the theatrics." Astris snapped, "Tell me why I'm here!"

Kara only offered a wan smile, "Let's continue with the theatrics for a time."

"Whatever you want." Astris huffed and began striding towards the Tower's front entrance.

* * *

"Look," Boromov said as he gingerly sat up, "I'll tell you what you want to know as long as we go somewhere more comfortable. I don't know about you but I could use a _raktajino_."

Macen exchanged a look with T'Kir. She shrugged and Macen let out a breath, "All right. We passed a café while chasing you. We can stop there."

Macen rose and Boromov held up a hand for assistance. Seeing the cold stares Macen and T'Kir were giving him, he sighed and hauled himself up onto his feet. Macen kept a firm grip on Boromov's arm as he escorted Boromov through the milling crowd of Magnan spectators and down the sidewalk to the café. Boromov sighed again as a result of his treatment.

"You can dispense with the theatrics." he said wearily, "I'm through running. Like you suggested, at this point my only hope lies in cooperation."

"We'll see." Macen replied sceptically.

* * *

They sat at a table and a waitress hurried over. They ordered their drinks and the waiter happily bustled off. Within five minutes the waiter returned with the drinks and a menu. T'Kir thanked her and informed the young woman that they would require some time.

Macen sipped his coffee and set it down. Fixing a hard stare on Boromov he said, "Time to talk."

"If you found me then I guess you know that the New Order is an interstellar concern." Boromov began.

"Tell us somethin' we don't already know, chump." T'Kir smartly remarked.

Boromov winced but continued, "Is it safe to assume that you know that the Order is threatening the Federation Council in addition to the spree of abductions?"

"It is." Macen tersely informed him, "The question is how will they strike?"

Boromov took a long pull on his coffee. Setting the mug down he looked Macen directly in the eye, "They already have."

Macen's visage grew cold. His eyes were filled with murderous intent and his voice dropped to a whisper, "How?"

"They've planted a biogenic device inside of the Council chambers." Boromov found himself quailing in the face of Macen's fury, "I don't know where they've placed it but I do know that if Starfleet Security begins a search it _will _be detonated."

"You certainly know how to pick your friends." T'Kir snidely commented.

"I _didn't _know they were going to plant any bombs." Boromov protested.

"I seem to recall you using that argument about your relationship with Cell 51." Macen pointed out.

Boromov seemed glum, "I'm not very choosy am I? I just get swept away with the romance of revolution and go along with murderers."

Sensing Boromov's genuine remorse, Macen softened somewhat; "What kind of biogenic device is it? Maybe that will help us find it."

"I don't know." Boromov was on the verge of tears, "I was barely able to obtain the information I have."

"He's telling the truth." T'Kir assessed with no small amount of frustration.

Macen pursed his lips and frowned, "That's what I was afraid of. Still, Starfleet has to be informed of what he does know."

Brushing a stray lock behind her ear, T'Kir nodded; "That should probably wait, don'cha think? Our comm badges aren't secured and they may have left someone behind to watch him."

"Would you please stop referring to me as if I wasn't here?" Boromov fretted, "Beam us up to your ship. I can't be taken by the New Order forces. They'll kill me."

"They wouldn't be the only ones that want to." Macen remarked and then seeing Boromov's distress, he chuckled darkly, "Never fear, Pytor, Starfleet wants you alive. We don't get paid if we bring in your corpse."

"Cold comfort that." Boromov muttered. He stared out of the café's glass front and froze. "Protect me!" he pleaded in a whisper.

Macen turned in his seat at the bistro style table. Standing outside of the café were three burly Bajoran men. They were studying the scene inside the café. Macen turned to T'Kir.

She shrugged, "I dunno what they want. They've each got enough mental discipline to rival Hannah."

Macen's eyes went vacant and then they sharpened to razor-like clarity, "Get down!"

Macen and T'Kir drug Boromov to the floor as the glass front exploded inward. The Bajorans stepped up into the café through the hole they'd created. They each brandished Romulan disruptors.

Macen and T'Kir leapt to their feet and shot two of the approaching Bajorans. They each staggered but remained conscious. Macen thumbed his weapon's power setting. Grabbing Boromov's collar and dragging the terrified arms supplier towards the rear of the restaurant, Macen fired again with his phaser set on lethal force. His shot pegged the closest Bajoran in the chest as he was training his weapon on Boromov. The Bajoran crumpled and collapsed.

Another Bajoran leapt at T'Kir. He took hold of her left hand, angling her phaser away from him. She drove her right elbow into his nose. It spewed blood but his grip remained firm. She drove her knee into his groin and he released her wrist with an explosive exhale. She took hold of his head and drove her knee into his face. He went down and remained still.

The third Bajoran had her dead to rights. With his weapon levelled at her chest he began to squeeze the firing stud. A particle beam lanced out and struck him from behind. Daggit and Radil cautiously entered the wrecked café.

"Is everyone all right?" Daggit asked.

"How did you get here?" Macen asked incredulously.

"We followed you down." Radil said proudly, "We were too late for the fight in the flat and we made it to the roof in time for you to commandeer the Police cruiser. We commandeered the next cruiser that came along and followed your car's locator beacon."

Macen grinned, "Well, I'm glad you disobeyed the spirit of my last orders. You saved T'Kir's life."

T'Kir curtsied, "Thank you, Noble Sir."

"What about me?" Radil indignantly demanded.

"I'll give you whatever you want if you get me out of here." Boromov declared.

Radil brightened, "Tempting."

"May I remind you that you're no longer a mercenary?" Macen prodded Radil.

"What do you call what we do now?" Radil fired back, "We're private investigators. That makes us guns for hire."

"Look, if there's a conflict of interest," Boromov offered, "I'll hire you."

Radil looked intrigued but Macen was adamant, "We have an employer for this case. That employer wants you alive so we'll keep you alive."

"Brin," T'Kir spoke, "there are more minds like these fellows' gathering outside."

"Quick!" Macen took hold of Boromov's arm and began guiding him, "Out the back!"

They scrambled towards the rear of the restaurant. Ducking inside the kitchen, they left angry cooks and waiters in their wake. Reaching the delivery door, Macen kicked it open. T'Kir yelled out a warning as Macen stepped through the open pathway.

A grey fist smashed into Macen jaw and a Cardassian caught his flailing form. A hypo was applied and Macen went limp in his arms. The attacker reached out for Boromov and the would-be revolutionary shrieked.

T'Kir intercepted the grasping hand. She twisted the Cardassian's arm and punched his stomach. A muscular female Cardassian yelled at T'Kir, ordering her to release her companion. Two more Cardassians and three Bajorans, mixed male and female, menacingly approached.

Daggit and Radil had their phasers drawn as they exited the café's rear entrance. The assembled assailants responded by pulling their own weapons free. T'Kir tapped her comm badge. As she did so, the Cardassian holding Macen pulled the El-Aurian's comm badge off of his belt and tossed it away.

T'Kir frowned but rapidly spoke anyway, "Telrik, four to beam up now!"

The SID team and Boromov shimmered out of existence. The mixed Cardassian/Bajoran forces signalled their ship and beamed away taking Macen with them. The Bajorans in the café and the street beyond were also retrieved.

* * *

"Stow him somewhere!" T'Kir snarled as she stepped off the transporter pad. Daggit followed in her wake. Telrik gave a surprised blink and stared at Radil as she placed a hand on Boromov's neck and squeezed.

"Not so fast." Radil growled, "You're not going anywhere."

Boromov winced as her grip tightened, "I assure you, I won't resist."

Radil pressed her phaser into Boromov's back, "You won't mind then if I take precautions."

"Suit..._yiiih_!" Boromov sucked in his breath as she twisted the phaser's emitter against his spine, "Suit yourself. I'm eager to be placed in protective custody."

"Move it then." Radil prodded him forward and Boromov stepped off of the pads. He walked through the doors T'Kir had charged through just a moment before. Out in the corridor, he stopped and twisted around.

"Where to?"

Radil wore a thin smile. She took hold of his arm and began leading him towards the lift. She still had her phaser drawn and aimed at her "guest". They entered the lift when it came and Radil softened somewhat.

"Until I get clarification on your status, I'm placing you in the brig." Radil explained.

"Astutely logical." Boromov conceded, "I'm yours to do with as you like."

Radil genuinely smiled, "If only all my prisoners were as cooperative."

"I'm willing to wager that most of your prisoners aren't relying upon you to keep them alive." Boromov opined.

Radil nodded, "That _is _a major difference."

Boromov sighed, "_Can _your people protect me?"

Radil stopped him and met his gaze fiercely, "We've survived the Nova Romans, the Omicron, the Romulans, the Iotians, the Orion Syndicate, Solarian Security Systems and one particular Kelvan. I think we can handle this New Order of yours."

Boromov shook his head, "You've never encountered anything like them. They appear to be merely humanoid but they're so much more."

"So are we." Radil proudly asserted.

"I can only hope."

* * *

T'Kir emerged onto the bridge and headed straight for Riker. Riker was up early and sitting in on Shannon Forger's shift. As T'Kir called Riker's name, he rose, knowing that something was wrong.

"Where's the Captain?" Riker immediately asked.

"They have him." T'Kir fumed.

"Who's 'they'?" Riker wondered.

"The _frinxing _New Order." T'Kir nearly spat, "They have him and we have Boromov."

"_Almost _a fair trade." Riker weakly chuckled.

"This isn't a damn joke, Tom." T'Kir snapped.

Riker grew serious, "I know its not."

T'Kir pinched her nose and closed her eyes, "I'm sorry. This just needs to be fixed."

Riker put a comforting hand on her shoulder, "It will be, T'Kir. I promise."

"Commander, a scoutship is breaking orbit." The OPS Officer reported.

"Can we determine its origin?" Forger asked before Riker could respond.

"Negative XO." The OPS Officer reported, "It's an unknown configuration."

"It's them!" T'Kir insisted, "We need to intercept them."

"Is that assessment based upon telepathic information?" Riker asked.

"Of course not." T'Kir protested, "They're running."

"Sir, they're proceeding at full impulse in violation of local traffic control." The OPS Officer continued, "Their warp engines are coming on line."

That clinched it for Riker. Turning to the helm, he began issuing orders, "Rhiann set in a pursuit course. Tactical, prepare a tractor beam."

Riker sat down in the command chair and glanced up towards T'Kir, "I'll feel awfully damn silly if this is just a pair of hotrodding kids."

"They've made the jump to warp." Rhiann announced from the helm.

"Are we clear of any other traffic?" Riker quickly asked.

Rhiann double checked her sensors, "We're free and clear to navigate."

"Go to warp speed." Riker ordered, "I want them caught."

"Warp speed, aye." The Andorian helmswoman replied and shifted the ship into subspace.

The _Obsidian _surged forward and began to overtake the smaller craft. The mysterious scoutship responded by accelerating. Rhiann checked her sensors before reporting the velocity change.

"Sir, they're moving past warp 9."

Riker blinked but kept his composure, "Take us to maximum warp. I want to overtake them."

Rhiann pushed the surveyor to its maximum speed of warp 9.71. The scout boosted its speed yet again.

Rhiann shook her head, "They're making warp 9.75 now."

"Match speed." Riker commanded, "We may not be able to overtake them but at least we can pace them."

Rhiann hesitated but inputted the speed adjustment. The scout reacted again.

"Commander, they're making warp 9.8 and accelerating!" Rhiann excitedly reported.

Riker tapped the intercom, "Riker to Dracas."

"Dracas here."

"Can we make warp 9.8?"

Dracas humourlessly chuckled, "Commander, we can't maintain 9.75. The warp core's intermix ratio is becoming unstable. If we don't reduce speed in the next ten minutes we may have a core breach."

"Damn." Riker said calmly, "Helm, reduce speed to warp 9."

"We can't give up!" T'Kir exclaimed.

"We're not giving up." Riker assured her, "We're merely regrouping before the laws of physics make us explode."

"Bring Boromov up here." T'Kir demanded, "That worm has to know where they're headed. He supplied their guns. He had to deliver them somewhere."

"Good idea." Riker tapped the intercom, "Riker to Radil."

"Radil here."

"Chief, we have a situation. Can you bring Boromov to the bridge? We have a few questions for him."

"Be there in a few."

Riker measured T'Kir's reaction, "Good enough?"

T'Kir planted her fists on her hips, "It's a start."

* * *

Gathered in Macen's Ready Room, T'Kir and Riker confronted Boromov. Radil guarded the door. Boromov uncomfortably shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"How can I help you?" Boromov spread his hands wide.

"Where is the New Order headquartered?" Riker enquired.

"I don't know." Boromov replied.

"You're lying." T'Kir coldly proclaimed.

Boromov sagged, "They'll kill me."

"From what I understand, they're already trying to do that." Riker countered.

"Give me a padd." Boromov requested, "I'll lay out the coordinates."

T'Kir brusquely handed him a padd. Boromov searched his memory and then began inputting the data. Handing the padd back to Riker, he added an explanation.

"The beginning reference point for the coordinates is Bajor."

"Why is that?" Riker wondered.

"It's the largest nearby starport." Boromov answered.

Riker looked towards T'Kir, "This means we can still pick up the _Defiant_ en route."

"Good." T'Kir folded her arms across her chest, "I want to have plenty of firepower when we confront these bastards."

Riker grinned, "The _Defiant_ should give us quite the edge." He turned to Radil, "Find Mr. Boromov suitable guest quarters and assign a twenty-four hour watch to him."

Radil nodded, "You've got it." She took hold of Boromov's arm and led him out of the Ready Room.

Riker studied T'Kir for a moment, "Are you going to be all right?"

She absent-mindedly nodded, "I'll be fine."

"I need to get these coordinates to Rhiann and change course for Bajor."

"I'll be fine, Tom." T'Kir assured him, "Really."

Riker looked far from convinced but he exited the chamber without further comment.

T'Kir dropped down behind Macen's desk. She studied the various objects strewn across its surface. There were half a dozen padds containing various papers and theatre reports that Macen had queued up to read. T'Kir sighed and activated the computer terminal.

For a dozen years now, Macen had been the anchor of her life. Suddenly finding herself bereft of him made her feel as though she were adrift. It was all she could manage to rein in the emotional maelstrom she was enduring. She couldn't surrender to the chaos. The New Order would win if she folded.

Gritting her teeth, she instructed the computer to activate a subspace link with Admiral Drake's office. Moments later, Ambril Delori's face filled the screen.

"Captain?" Ambril looked confused at being hailed by Macen's computer but having T'Kir's features staring back at her.

"Captain Macen won't be joining us." T'Kir answered the unspoken question with all of the control that she could muster, "He's been captured by operatives of the New Order."

Ambril's mouth formed an "O", "I'll alert Admiral Drake."

"You do that." T'Kir said sarcastically.

The screen shifted to the official logo of the SID. Several moments passed by and then the logo was replaced by Drake's concerned visage.

"T'Kir." Drake said as a greeting, "Where is Brin?"

"Somewhere between here and a place called Chandilla." T'Kir replied.

"Is he alive?" Drake inquired, knowing Macen and T'Kir's telepathic rapport could provide better answers than any sensor readings up to this point.

"As far as I can tell."T'Kir supplied, "I still sense him but with the way El-Aurians inhabit several realities at once that could mean anything."

"We'll hope for the best." Drake wore a humourless smile, "How are you holding up?"

"Honestly?" Drake nodded and T'Kir confessed, "Barely. I feel like I'm going to fly apart by the seams any minute now."

"That's to be expected." Drake assured her, "If you don't think you can maintain, let Kort know immediately."

T'Kir sketched off a salute, "Yes, ma'am."

Drake chuckled, "You can't be that far gone. You're still a smart ass."

"It's the little things that are worth living for." T'Kir quipped.

"Keep up the good spirits." Drake urged, "That's an order. It'll get you through until you can get Brin back."

T'Kir nodded, fighting back the urge to break into tears; "You've got a deal."

"I take it the location of this Chandilla came from Boromov?" Drake asked.

T'Kir sighed, "Have I got a story for you. First, there's the Federation Council chambers…"


	11. Chapter 11

Astris squinted as the lift doors opened. They had reached the uppermost floor of the tower. The upper spire was a glass encased pavilion. The sky itself was in full glory overhead. It seemed as though you could easily touch a cloud from this vantage point.

Astris noted that Jared and Kelv were dumbstruck as well. They'd obviously never been here before as well, she noted. Kara took it in stride. The wondrous sight was apparently old hat to her.

There was a central office space located in the centre of the cathedral-like area. A high backed chair was swivelled away from the lift and faced the view beyond. Kara silently urged everyone on. Jared and Kelv recomposed themselves and pushed Astris forward. Astris ripped her arms free of her captors' grasp and glared at both of them. Kara unsuccessfully tried to suppress a smile.

Astris composed herself and walked beside Kara as she strode towards the desk. Once there, Kara adopted a submissive mien. Speaking reverently, she called out to the back of the chair.

"Proconsul Garane? The Bajoran 1st Minister is here."

The chair turned and faced the petitioners. With the light streaming in from behind the throne-like chair it was difficult to make out the features of its occupant. Adding to this optical difficulty was the fact the Proconsul also wore a hooded cloak and the hood further obscured the wearer's features. The Proconsul rose and Astris took in the sight of the robes the elusive figure wore.

They were brown and grey. They draped a well developed physique. A female physique if Astris were any judge of these things. The Proconsul had a regal bearing, standing as though she were entitled to the galaxy itself. She threw back the hood and Astris' world fell apart.

Illa Garane was a Cardassian. More than that, she was the epitome of thousands of Cardassian poems. She was the idealised Cardassian female, full of charisma and allure.

Even after more than a decade of peace with Cardassia, the sight of Bajorans serving a Cardassian filled Astris with revulsion. Garane took all of this in in an instant and graced her with a reassuring smile that radiated benevolence.

"It seems as though you've been caught up in a historical reproduction, eh Minister?"

Astris recoiled, "Are you the Prefect here?"

Garane laughed, "I'm no Cardassian overseer, Minister. This is a place built on cooperation not exploitation."

"They said the same thing about _Terok Nor_." Astris rebutted.

Garane smiled benevolently, "Yes, I'm sure they did. Chandilla is different. When the scouts for the High Command found this colony, they found a microcosm of Bajor itself. Those with vision saw this planet as a template for how Bajorans and Cardassians could be united in a common cause."

"And what would that cause be?" Astris enquired.

"Nothing less than perfection itself." Garane answered with a bright gleam in her eye.

Astris laughed, "You've gone from the typical Cardassian delusions of godhood to delusions of Borghood."

Garane shook her head, "Not quite. The Borg seek perfection through the synthesis of the organic and inorganic. We seek it through the perfection of the genome itself."

"You're genetically enhanced?" Astris' eyes widened.

"Engineered if you prefer." Garane bowed.

Astris turned towards Kara and saw her in an entirely different light. She stared at Kara while her widened eyes scrutinised every sculpted feature on her partner's face. Garane chuckled.

"Dear Kara was bred for her beauty and intelligence. It's little wonder that you found yourself attracted to her."

"The 1st Minister was meant to fall in love with her." Astris deduced, "Except that Gena and I became involved _before _I was elected Minister. How fortunate for you that I secured the top job."

Garane shrugged, "It does not matter. Kara would have dazzled whoever was elected to the post. Look at the upside. You have no reason to doubt the sincerity of her affections for you."

"I wonder." Astris mused.

Kara looked wounded and Garane shook her head, "You are troubling Kara. Are her actions and revealed identity really so reprehensible to you?"

"I can forgive a lot." Astris admitted, "Her actions will declare her true feelings."

Garane's smile turned benevolent again, "Soon, I will be explaining our motives behind your abduction. Kara will show you to your quarters and there you will get a chance to mingle with your fellow planetary leaders."

Astris started, "You've kidnapped more people?"

"Of course." Garane's smile remained fixed, "Our plans encompass the entire Federation, not just one sector."

"The Federation will never bow to your plans." Astris hotly declared.

"But perhaps they will welcome us with open arms." Garane said sagely.

That dumbfounded Astris and she lapsed into silence. Her time in Starfleet had prepared her to quietly gather information when she was uncertain. It was a practice that had served her well in Bajoran politics. She needed to study her enemy before striking.

Garane shook her head and clucked her tongue, "Really Minister, or should I call you Commander?"

"Call me what you will." Astris replied with a shrug.

"You are assessing the situation like a Starfleet officer." Garane frowned, "Step back and review the situation as the 1st Minister of Bajor. Listen to our proposals and then tell us if we were truly wrong for bringing you here."

Astris bit back her first reply. After a visible struggle she shrugged and threw her hands in the air.

"All right." she conceded, "I'll play it your way for now."

"I'm pleased that you're willing to see reason." Garane thought about it and then amended her statement, "For now at least."

Astris grinned and Garane sighed, "You are going to prove difficult, I fear." Garane turned to Kara, "Escort our guest to her accommodations. The crèche dormitories have been redesigned to accommodate offworlders."

"Prisoners, you mean." Astris piped up.

Garane's smile held a feral edge, "If you prefer."

Jared and Kelv began to move towards Astris and Garane waved them off, "Kara can perform this task alone. Our internal security network will keep track of them."

Both Kelv and Jared bristled. Kara spoke, soothing their concerns, "Sergeant, Corporal, listen to me. Garane is a friend to Bajor. The previous Proconsul was a Bajoran man named Bertran Val. This society truly is the result of Bajorans and Cardassians cooperating. Even if you cannot bring yourself to trust her, trust in me. You know our goals and aspirations coincide. Have faith in me as I have in Proconsul Garane and Bajor will embark on a path that will secure her future forever."

The two renegade Militia officers subsided and Kara escorted Astris to the lift. Garane resumed her seat and pressed a button located in a console on her desk.

Smiling, she spoke, "This is Proconsul Garane. Please have two guides sent to my office. I have two gentlemen in need of quarters, clothes, a meal, and a tour of our fair capital."

"Yes, Proconsul." a male voice responded, "Two volunteers are now on their way up."

"Excellent." Garane replied happily and disconnected the circuit. Clapping her hands together, she addressed the two discomfited Bajorans, "In a moment two volunteers selected to show you the graces of our capital city will be here. Anything you want is yours."

"Anything?" Jared asked sceptically.

"_Anything_." Garane assured them, "You are heroes to the New Order and we wish to show our appreciation."

The lift doors opened and two statuesque Bajoran women exited. The Militia Constables were still wary but the sight of two beautiful women beckoning for them to follow calmed their anxiety somewhat. With a final exhortation from Garane, the pair exchanged shrugs and glances and dutifully followed their guides into the lift. After the doors slid shut, Garane let loose of a mirthless chuckle.

"Males." she scoffed, "Travel the galaxy across and they're still universally driven around by their _mishveks_."

Amused by her own observation, Garane returned to her meditations. Astris had been even frailer than expected. She was considered exceptional by the Bajorans yet she had been so…_plain_. If what Garane suspected were true then the genetically un-enhanced desperately needed the guidance and strength of will that Chandilla could provide to the Alpha quadrant.

The weakness of the rest of the quadrant had first been explored by Chandillan scouts a beginning two decades ago. At that time, Chandilla's geneticists were employing genetically tailored cloning techniques to augment the eugenics program and the foetal manipulations to DNA being performed. Getting in contact with the surgical underground, the Chandillans offered to surgically resequence a foetus' DNA in exchange for a sample of the altered DNA. The usual middlemen handled the transactions and garnered the profits.

The Chandillan engineers gathered the sampled DNA and forced grew clones. These subjects became breeding stock for the eugenics programs. The original Bajoran and Cardassian population became littered with humans, Andorians, Bolians, Vulcans, dozens of other races and even a few Klingon DNA samples. The Chandillan society was rife with commingled racial and ethnic lines. Racial prejudices were unknown to the Chandillans. The founders of the genetics program had seen to that.

The various planetary leaders were being brought to Chandilla to directly appeal to their sensibilities. Their voices would be irreplaceable in fostering an amicable acceptance of the Chandillan proposals. The Federation Council would likely prove difficult and that is why their fail safe option had been put in place. Garane truly hoped she wouldn't be forced to "chastise" the Council.

Garane had just received word that the Federation, Terran, Lunar and Martian Presidents had been successfully taken by the beta team assigned to the abduction at Camp Ares on Mars. Admiral Edward Noyce's security measures had been damned effective. The first Chandillan squad and Starfleet Security agents had been captured. The Chandillans had committed suicide en masse rather than be interrogated. This had been accomplished through the use of an implant located at the base of the skull.

Starfleet had expected a single wave of kidnappings. In actuality, there had been two. The second was put into effect after Security moles had assumed the protective details of the secondary targets. Noyce had prevented the first attempt on the collected Presidents by cooperating with Admirals Alynna Nechayev and Amanda Drake of Starfleet Intelligence and mixing SI Operations personnel in with the primary protective detail. Fortunately, there had been two units committed to such an important target.

Starfleet Intelligence had been far too quick to determine that there were moles within Starfleet. They had also been too perceptive regarding Pytor Boromov. Boromov had eluded capture but the apparent leader of the Operations squad dispatched to retrieve him had been captured. Garane looked forward to his interrogation. She needed to know how many of the New Order's plans had been compromised. The Order's mental probes would rip the truth from the Intelligence Officer even if he resisted

Wearing a grim, satisfied smile, Garane leaned back in her chair and stared out at the magnificent view stretched out before her.

* * *

Kara led Astris through a large room filled with tables and chairs. Large viewers were mounted in the walls and a replimat was located in one wall. The opposite wall was composed entirely of transparent aluminium, floor to ceiling. Astris stopped to take it all in.

"So this is a 'crèche'?" Astris wondered.

"It is part of it." Kara answered, "There are several crèches, each to a floor of the tower. This is the instruction room. It also served as the cafeteria."

"People honestly sent their children here?" Astris asked.

"Beru," Kara said tenderly, "for decades children were born and raised in this tower. There are no such things as 'parents' on Chandilla. There are only instructors and minders."

"You've never known a parent?" Astris asked in shock, "You were raised in this tower?"

Kara shook her head, "By the time I was born, crèches had been built all across this world. I was raised in one several hundred kilometres away."

"That's…" Astris struggled for words, "inhuman!"

"All those times you talked to me about Treliop II with its wide open fields and your parents at your side, I recollected a tower like this. Smaller, of course, but with the same basic design." Kara explained.

"How can you build a society like this?" Astris demanded.

"When a crèche resident reaches adolescences, they are assigned to a mentor. That mentor guides them into being the component of society that they will become." Kara struggled to make the system understood, "The children inherit the roles vacated by their elders."

"What about education?" Astris enquired, "How do you all become super geniuses?"

"We leave the crèche with the equivalent of several advanced degrees." Kara dutifully explained.

"If you're all so advanced, who does the menial work?" Astris' fists were firmly planted on her hips.

"Clones do most of the mundane labour." Kara said, "They also provide breeding stock."

"And you consider that ethical?" Astris folded her arms across her chest and wore an indignant expression.

"It's worked for nearly sixty years." Kara shrugged.

Astris sadly shook her head, "I really don't know you at all, do I?"

Kara was stricken, "You know the real _me_, Beru. The rest is all superficial."

"Clones are people!" Astris insisted, "As the Legal Minister of Bajor, you've fought for this principle. Now you're betraying a core value that made you what you are…were."

Astris' amendment caused visible pain to flash across Kara's features. Breathing heavily, she asked, "How can you say that?"

"I can say that because the Kara Gena I fell in love with understood that equal rights were for _all _sentients not just those it was convenient to give protection under the law to." Astris explained in a harsh tone.

Kara staggered back into a wall and fought to control her emotions. Astris' face softened and she reached out for Kara. As she took hold of her partner's arm, another Chandillan strode into the room. He was half Bajoran and half Cardassian.

"Step away from her." He sternly ordered, "Don't you think you've caused enough damage for now?"

Astris was annoyed, "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Jern Gelt." the Chandillan huffed, "And you must be the august Astris Beru."

"So is that a Cardassian name or a Bajoran one?" Astris bemusedly asked.

"It's both." Gelt revealed, "But my given name is Jern."

"And you're interrupting our conversation because…?"

"I do so because I care about Kara." Gelt fumed, "We were crèche mates together. She's special and she must be protected from an inferior's influence."

"She didn't find me so 'inferior' when she shared my bed." Astris threw the dart seeing if it would strike Gelt's heart. It did.

Infuriated, Gelt pointed at a nearby doorway, "Down the hall with you! You can choose whichever room you like."

Astris shrugged. Brushing her lips across Kara's, she whispered, "I'll see you later." Having done so, she sauntered down the corridor and turned at the first door she came to. She pressed the call button next to the door and it slid open. She cast her gaze down the hallway and saw a bristling Gelt staring at her. She blew him a kiss and stepped into her new "quarters".

Gelt watched her door for several minutes and then turned to Kara, "Are you all right?"

Kara numbly nodded, "I'll be fine."

Gelt's concerned continued unabated, "Are you certain? I could…persuade her not to upset you."

Kara's eyes focused and she slapped Gelt across the face, "You touch her and you'll answer to me."

Gelt ruefully rubbed his cheek, "I only meant…she's only an inferior for Prophets' sake!"

"Astris Beru is a remarkable woman in all senses of the word." Kara growled, "I've failed her not the reverse."

"What would the Proconsul say if she heard such sentiments?" Gelt agonised.

"I'm not sure I give a damn." Kara pushed herself away from the wall she'd been using for support. Gelt's proximity blocked her, "Please move Jern. I have other duties to perform."

"Just don't forget where your loyalties lie." Gelt warned.

Kara responded with a wan smile and a hollow laugh, "How can I? I've destroyed everything else that mattered to me."

Gelt worried as Kara left. Despite her inability to reciprocate Gelt's physical desires, she'd always had a certain affection for him. It had been Kara that noted his affinity for working with children. That notation had earned him a place amongst the orderlies that watched out over the crèches. He'd risen through the ranks to earn a place minding the expected offworlders.

_More than a place_, Gelt thought proudly, _I'm in charge of their care._

Astris Beru worried Gelt. Her ability to cloud Kara's thoughts and cause her to doubt the glory of the cause could well prove to be the Bajoran's undoing. Gelt drew himself up. No one would hurt Kara while he had something to say about it. A cruel smile crept across his face as he planned his next "intervention".


	12. Chapter 12

Macen sat behind the forcefield cutting his cell off from the rest of the laughably referred to "brig". The single celled space was just large enough to accommodate a desk and a chair. The desk had a viewscreen mounted atop it and his bored looking jailor was engaged in some type of game. Macen had already surveyed the cell, much to his captor's amusement, looking for any exploitable weakness.

Macen's jaw throbbed. It had been broken and dislocated by the blow that had rendered him unconscious. The hypo applied to him had merely kept him under longer than the assault would have. A medic had reset and regenerated his jawbone. That eased the pain but it still hurt and there was no sign of an analgesic coming his way.

Sitting on the bunk located in his cell, Macen tried to engage his jailor in conversation, "Hello there. Can you tell me how long I'll be detained here?"

The guard looked up from her screen, gave him a sullen stare and returned her line of sight to her game. Macen's eyebrows rose. Pursing his lips, he began planning his next verbal assault.

"Y'know, when they were engineering your particular genetic stew, they could have spared a moment to blend in some courtesy."

The guard rose so fast her chair was toppled over. The door leading to the miniscule brig slid open and a Cardassian woman strode in. _No,_ Macen corrected himself, _a half Bajoran, half Cardassian woman just strode in here._ Quite an attractive woman if Macen were any judge of these sorts of things. The last mix of these cultures that Macen had encountered had been Captain Ilisa Kendil. The pirate had aided the SID team capture a smuggling ring.

Kendil had been a blonde but this newcomer had black hair with red highlights. Macen rose as she studied him. She looked over at her fuming subordinate, Macen _knew _she was a subordinate because of her emotional reaction to the taller woman's presence, and chuckled.

"At ease, Jari." the older woman said, "Take a break. I can watch over our guest for a time."

The Bajoran left with a final dark glare at Macen and the mysterious woman laughed, "I do believe you've managed to upset poor Jari."

Macen returned the woman's scrutiny, "I should warn you, her full name is Nelos Jari. I would recommend you use her family name since she is quite possessive of her given name."

"And you are?" Macen warily asked.

The woman smiled, "I am Makra Nura. _Captain_ Makra Nura."

"I'm assuming that's a Bajoran name as well given your…" Macen fiddled with his right ear.

Makra's hand went up and she gently fingered her traditional earring, "Yes. I'm a child of the Prophets."

Macen canted his head to one side, "Isn't that unusual for someone like you?"

Makra laughed, "You mean for a half-breed?"

"I guess so." Macen was embarrassed.

"Don't feel badly." Makra consoled him, "It's a common misperception."

Macen frowned, "I've dealt with someone with a similar racial background. Her experiences and attitude obviously differed from yours."

Makra saddened, "Unfortunately, not everyone comes from as benevolent a place as where we are headed."

"And where would that be?" Macen curiously enquired.

Makra wore a coy smile, "There is no harm in telling you. No one in your Federation has heard of our world."

"In that case, what is the name of your world?" Macen prompted her.

"Chandilla." Makra smiled upon seeing Macen's blank expression, "As I predicted, you have never heard of it."

Macen rubbed the back of his head. He broke into a rueful grin. Wincing, he rubbed his jaw. Makra grew concerned.

"Do you require medical attention?"

Macen shook his head, "I've been treated. A painkiller would be nice though."

Makra nodded, "I'll send our medic in."

"I'd be grateful." Macen admitted, "I have to tell you, you're not what I expected from a captor."

"Because I'm a half breed?" Makra grinned mischievously.

Macen started to grin again but the pain in his jaw stopped him and he decided to merely persevere in speaking, "No. You were there to kill Boromov. I'd expect you to be far more cross with someone who prevented you from accomplishing that goal."

Makra was aghast, "Who told you we were there to kill Boromov?"

"_He_ did." Macen asserted.

"We were there to find Boromov, ascertain his status and prevent his capture by Starfleet." Makra explained.

Macen could sense the veracity of her emotions, "I believe you but Boromov claimed you would kill him to keep him silent."

"We have no desire to inflict harm." Makra insisted, "We are trying to help your Federation."

"By detonating a biogenic device in the Council chambers?" Macen rebutted her statement.

Makra scolded him with a glance, "That device contains a strain of the Cardassian _whillix_ virus. It is completely harmless despite it being very annoying for three days."

"Then what's its purpose?" Macen was intrigued. So far, Makra was telling the truth.

"The bomb is meant to demonstrate how thoroughly we've penetrated Federation security." Makra explained, "It is little more than a lark."

"Or a reprimand." Macen quoted remembering Kara's statement.

Makra brightened, "Exactly!"

"Thank you." Macen said, "That clarifies things."

"Talking seems to aggravate your wounds." Makra frowned, "Would you like our medic to come before answering a few routine questions?"

"Captured a lot of prisoners have you?" Macen attempted to joke. Seeing that his woeful attempt at humour had failed, Macen waved the thought away, "Never mind. I'll gratefully see the medic now."

Makra nodded and stepped over to the security desk. While she summoned the medic, Macen sat on the bunk and tried to telepathically contact T'Kir. He was having difficulty reaching her and that worried him.

* * *

The door to Macen and T'Kir's quarters slid shut and Kort found Riker waiting for him.

"How is she?" Riker enquired.

"Sleeping." Kort answered, "I had to administer twice the normal dosage to put her under. I don't think she should greet the morning alone."

"Hannah's going to stay with her and Lees is a comm call away." Riker assured him.

Kort grunted, "That should do. She'll probably sleep for six or seven hours but there will be hell to pay when she wakes up."

Riker wore a rueful grin, "Being knocked out by the CMO while trying to seize control of the ship is bound to ruin anybody's day."

"She tried to commit mutiny." Kort frowned, "Doesn't that bother you?"

Riker shook his head, "No. What we had was a conflict of authority. Technically, T'Kir is my employer and can fire me at will. She's also an officer of this ship and therefore under my command. She tried to assert the employer card and I relied upon the chain of command. Fortunately, no one backed T'Kir's position."

Riker offered a weak smile, "Of course, I'd feel a whole lot worse about the situation if the crew had backed her instead of me."

Kort bristled, "They would have to pay for their dishonour."

Riker smiled, "I'm glad they didn't have to. The crew recognised T'Kir's instability and chose rationality. Let's leave it at that."

'Yes." Kort sombrely nodded, "But Dracas and I would have dealt with them."

Riker grimaced, "As much as I appreciate the support, don't you think beheading half the crew would go against your duties as a physician?"

Kort straightened his back and came to attention, "Not in a matter of honour."

Riker shook his head and wore a wry grin, "And just who would you have heal all those wounds you'd inflicted?"

"Tessa could do it." Kort insisted.

Riker was nonplussed for a moment and then he recalled that the EMH had selected the name for herself with the aid of Parva. Tessa's program was virtually left on 24 hours a day now. Like the crew of the _Voyager_, the _Obsidian's _complement was discovering the foibles of leaving an EMH program to its own devices. The results bode ill for the future of holoprogramming.

If holograms were to achieve protected status as sentients then every holoprogram written would have to be left running for eternity. Characters would not be allowed to be killed or subjected in any way. The current fantasy world of the holodeck would give way to an idealised vision of the present. Millions of holograms would have to be reprogrammed with the capacity to accept their responsibilities as Federation citizens. It would be a logistical nightmare.

Riker put a hand to Kort's shoulder, "You're a faithful comrade, Kort. I just prefer being happy that your latent homicidal tendencies weren't called upon today."

Kort's chest heaved and he sighed, "But it would have been glorious."

"Tomorrow will be as well." Riker assured him.

Kort shrugged, "As you say."

Riker put his arm around Kort's shoulders, "Let me buy you a _raktajino_."

"No one buys anything aboard ship." Kort grumbled.

"Then it will be my first command as acting captain."

Kort brightened, "That is an honour."

Riker chuckled, "Exactly."

Grace came scurrying down the corridor. She was dressed in sweat shorts and a tank top. She had a duffle slung over her shoulder and she carried a tray filled with food.

"You're certainly geared up." Riker mused.

"Since I'll probably be here for a few days, I thought I'd get prepared." Grace replied.

"You have an emergency medical pass into the room." Kort revealed, "It is attached to your authorisation code."

"Let's see," Grace faced the door, "Computer, emergency medical override authorisation Grace Gamma S31 Kelva."

The door slid open and Grace looked over her shoulder with a sheepish grin, "They say to use code words you'll remember."

Riker pushed her lower back into T'Kir's quarters, "Just go!"

Grace laughed as the door slid shut. Riker was still smiling when he turned to Kort, "Shall we get that drink now?"

"Lead on, Commander."

* * *

Dracas leaned up against the railing surrounding the warp core and yawned. He was immediately ashamed of this display of weakness before his subordinates. A chuckling Gilan did little to relieve his shame. Gilan sensed his discomfort and tampered his amusement.

"Everyone gets tired, Chief." Gilan handed him a cup of coffee, "The former Chief Dracas and Parva each worked themselves to exhaustion down here. I was hoping you'd avoid their fate."

Gilan noted Dracas' intense scrutiny and broke into a wan smile, "Not trying to be a critic but I have this watch. You should get some sleep and get ready for tomorrow. We'll be back in the Bajoran system tomorrow and then we and the _Defiant _will track down Captain Macen's abductors and…"

"Strip the flesh from their bones." Dracas supplied and took a sip of his coffee.

"I was going to say, 'apprehend the kidnappers', but we can try it your way." Gilan remarked with a grin.

Dracas sniffed his cup of coffee and then looked upon at Gilan with inquisitive eyes, "This is excellent. What is it?"

"Turkish coffee." Gilan grinned, "Or Byzantine as it would be called on Magna Roma."

"It is excellent." Dracas took another swallow and grinned, "I'll have to bring this home."

"I'll have to set up an import/export company when you do." Gilan joked.

Dracas took another drink and then stared at Gilan, "You have extended me every courtesy since I arrived. You forfeited this position in favour of me and you continue to bestow kindnesses upon me. You have gone far beyond what is expected of a subordinate. Why is this?"

Gilan blushed. He rubbed the back of his neck and sought the words, "How do I tell you that I think you're cute? Your sense of wonder and eagerness to greet every day make you adorable. I know nothing will ever become of 'us'. Except for when you hang around past the end of your shift, I never see you. However, I can at least look out for you while you're taking care of the rest of us."

Dracas blinked in stunned silence. He'd never imagined that Gilan had feelings for him. That was absolutely forbidden in a chain of command…or was it? His chain of command had changed and so had all the rules.

"I'm flattered." Dracas confessed.

Gilan looked uncomfortable, "Please don't take this as a come on. I've just started seeing Richards from Security and I don't want him to get jealous over something as harmless as this."

Dracas bowed his head, "Of course."

"Whew." Gilan breathed, "I knew I could count on you, Chief."

"You'd better check on the magnetic seals around the antideuterium tanks. Commanders Riker and Forger are going to maintain the highest speeds we can sustain for the foreseeable future. I'd hate to die because someone forgot to reinforce a seal."

Gilan grinned, "On it!"

As Gilan bounded away, Dracas felt his spirits sink. He had to get out of Engineering before despair settled on him. Gilan's revelation was both reassuring and devastating at the same time. It served to remind Dracas of just how alone he was. Macen had once counselled Dracas that it was a rather large galaxy. Dracas felt surrounded by the void that encompassed stars and planets right now.

* * *

Radil and Collins shared a table in the Team Room. Their conversation, like so many others, revolved around T'Kir's abortive attempt to commandeer the vessel.

"Girl's got _mishveks, _I'll give her that." Collins said with a grin.

Radil shook her head, "No, she's insane. Certifiable."

"Aww," Collins protested, "she's not that bad."

"Trust me, Abby." Radil countered, "You don't know her like I do. They had her in an asylum for a reason."

"I heard that rumour." Collins rested her cheek on her fist.

"It's no damn rumour." Radil bristled, "It's the _frinxing _truth."

"You're cute when you're agitated." Collins grinned.

"So nice of you to notice." Radil flashed her a wicked grin, "No one else around here does."

"I aim to please." Collins' smile widened, "_Literally_."

"So I've gathered." Radil chuckled.

"All joking aside," Collins maintained her pose, "what about Kort? You two were going hot and heavy for a couple of years."

"We were good for a time and then we weren't." Radil shrugged, "It was time to move on."

Collins lifted her glass, "To greener fields."

Radil clinked Collins' glass with her own, "May they prove fertile."

"Have you ever thought about having children?" Collins asked as Radil downed a slug of her drink.

The beverage came spewing out of Radil's mouth. She wiped her mouth and stared at Collins with a wide eyed gaze, "Prophets! Where did that come from?"

Collins shrugged, "I dunno. I've thought about it. I've always assumed I'd have to give up my career in order to have kids. I just wondered what you thought about it."

Radil still looked stunned. She squirmed in her seat and tried to gather her thoughts, "I suppose you'd have to give up this madcap life. It isn't exactly safe is it? Even Macen's life isn't as charmed as we thought it was."

"I hope we can rescue the Captain." Collins sighed, "It wouldn't be the same without him. I don't think I could stay aboard."

"I know I couldn't." Radil admitted, "I originally signed on for the money and to get away from the Orion Syndicate but I've stayed because of Macen."

"Did you ever find him attractive?" Collins wondered.

"Macen?" Radil reflected fro a moment, "No. Besides the fact that he's not my type, he had T'Kir at his side practically from the moment I met him. Even before they were an official couple they were always together."

"There had to be someone." Collins prodded.

Radil sighed, "I did have an infatuation with Rab Daggit."

"Daggit?" Collins straightened up, "What happened?"

"Fate." Radil said in resignation, "Although we each pined away for the other at different times we never got together. When I finally reciprocated his feelings, he'd found Parva and that was, as they say, that."

"I know the feeling." Collins said dryly.

Radil wore a wry expression, "I did say we'd revisit the topic."

"Which is a soft soaped 'no'." Collins grumbled.

"No," Radil corrected her, "That's a definite 'maybe' while I sort out my feelings on the matter."

"Just don't take too long." Collins warned, "I'm still young and fun. I'll be swept off my feet any day now."

Radil laughed, "I've been duly notified."

"Good." Collins bobbed her head decisively, "Now, do you want to catch a movie at my 'place'?"

"Sounds good." Radil agreed.

* * *

Danan watched as Radil and Collins departed. She was glad that the reclusive Radil was reaching out and forging a new friendship. There was something behind Collins' wistful looks though and if eight lifetimes of experience had anything to say about it then Radil was in for some interesting times ahead. Danan smiled and took another look at the chrono on the wall.

_Tom's late, _she mentally grumped and then blinked, _My, aren't we getting possessive?_

Danan had to ruefully admit that her feelings towards Tom Riker were deepening. She still wouldn't label what she felt as love but it was definitely a fond affection. Her lifetimes of experience allowed her to remain a little more objective when it came to these things. Despite her experience, her objectivity had largely failed her when it came to Macen. Fortunately it had come back into play at the end of the relationship.

Riker entered the room with Kort on his heels and Danan's heart skipped a beat. _Down girl. _Danan scolded herself, _He's just a man._ Danan waved at Riker then shook her head as he turned away. _I've got to be careful. _she cautioned herself, _I don't want to retread paths already taken._ As Riker and Kort gathered up their meals Danan recomposed herself and was the essence of charm and grace as they joined her.

* * *

Grace was stretched out across the couch in T'Kir's quarters. She'd already recorded a letter for Delaney and transmitted it. Now she was engrossing herself in the novel she'd brought. She was reading an actual hardbound edition of the book. Lt. Commander Elizabeth Cogley, JAG Corps, had introduced her to books and she'd become a fan. Cogley had said that books, like the law, ran in her family.

Grace had never understood that quote until she's noted the bookshelf in Macen and T'Kir's quarters. Macen had explained that shortly after arriving in the Alpha Quadrant he'd been legally counselled by a Samuel T. Cogley, Attorney at Law. Cogley had introduced Macen to the bound page and he'd loved it. He now haunted antique stores searching for novels and historical texts to add to his collection. T'Kir had attested to this in the longsuffering manner that only a loved one could project.

As time passed, Grace marked her place and laid her book down. She stretched out across the sofa and nestled herself into the sofa. She had a blanket at the ready but doubted that she'd use it. What T'Kir found to be cool was pleasantly warm to humans.

Grace almost laughed at that observation. Although born in a human body with physical and emotional sensations, she'd never considered herself remotely human until recently. Her decision to immerse herself in a self imposed exile had thrust her humanity to the forefront of her consideration. Her burgeoning relationship with Ian Delaney only reflected these changes within her.

Rojan, Kalinda, Drea and the other original Kelvan scouts had had over a century to adjust to their new bodies and all the baggage they entailed. Their children and grandchildren had been born with all of these "limitations". The obstacles facing them had been daunting. With no experience to guide them, they crafted a new society.

Parvac and his followers represented a new crop of refugees. They too had to adjust themselves to their newfound reality. Grace could only hope that they would do so without reverting to the warlike ways that had driven them from the Andromeda Galaxy. That path would lead to the eventual annihilation of her race as the denizens of the Alpha Quadrant gathered together to stand against her people's plans for conquest.

Grace had just started to drift off when she heard a whimpering sound coming from the bedroom. She rose and cautiously approached the doorway lading to the bedroom. T'Kir writhed on the bed and called out Macen's name. Grace bit her lower lip and proceeded to the side of the bed.

Gently lowering herself, she lay on the bed and took hold of T'Kir. Wrapping her arms around her friend she gently began speaking to T'Kir in gentle tones, "Shh. Hush now, sweetie. Brin's not here. We're going to find him though and then you two will be together again."

"Brin?" T'Kir asked from her slumber, "I can hear you but I can't respond."

Grace stroked T'Kir's head, "It'll be okay. I promise."

This continued over the course of the next thirty minutes but it eased after that. T'Kir still suffered a fitful sleep and Grace found herself awake more often than not but they made it through the night. In the morning T'Kir was surprised to find Grace sharing the bed with her. Grace explained the situation and T'Kir broke down and finally shed the tears she'd been holding back.

* * *

Afterwards, T'Kir was the model of self control and strength. Grace was amazed at the change.

"Wow." Grace blurted, "I'd never have thought you were the same woman who was sobbing in my arms this morning."

"Times change." T'Kir said as she rammed her phaser pistol into its holster, "Now I'm gonna find the people responsible for taking my husband and I'm gonna make them pay."

"You're sure revenge is the best way to go on this?" Grace wondered.

"Works for me." T'Kir retorted and strode out of her quarters.

Grace stood back and watched as T'Kir left. She felt lousy for doing what she was about to do but she tapped her comm badge anyway.

"Grace to Riker." Grace said as calmly as she could, "We have a situation."


	13. Chapter 13

Macen awoke with a start. Looking around at his surroundings, he realised where he was…and who was missing. As he thought about T'Kir he remembered his inability to contact her earlier and he immediately grew concerned. He stretched out with his extrasensory abilities and tried once again to reach her.

* * *

"What d'you want?" T'Kir growled as she stared at her breakfast.

"I need to know what your plans are." Riker said from across the table.

"I'm not gonna try and take over the ship if that's what you mean." T'Kir testily replied.

"That's a start." Riker conceded, "What about your intentions towards Brin's kidnappers?"

T'Kir's eyes blazed and she wore a feral smile, "You don't wanna know."

"That's what I was afraid of." Riker grumped, "Look, there won't be any vigilantism while I'm in command."

"So step down." T'Kir retorted.

Riker frowned and he hotly replied, "We've had this discussion. You lost."

_T'Kir?_

T'Kir was shocked, "Brin?"

Riker looked over his shoulders. Gazing at T'Kir with his hand hovering over his comm badge, he asked, "T'Kir? Are you all right? I can call…"

"Shh!" T'Kir cut him off, "I'm getting a telepathic message from Brin."

Exhaling in relief, Riker's hand dropped to the table. T'Kir refocused.

_Brin? Are you all right?_

_ For now. _Macen informed her, _I think we have these people all wrong._

_ How so?_ T'Kir frowned.

_They weren't trying to kill Boromov, _Macen revealed,_ and the biogenic weapon is filled with a harmless flu virus not a toxin_.

_I suppose they told you this._ T'Kir said sceptically.

_Matter of fact, they did. It's hard to fool my empathic sense._

T'Kir had to grudgingly concede that point, _So why the terror tactics?_

_They have something to say and for some reason felt they had to resort to extreme measures to be heard. _Macen hypothesised, _It probably has to do with the fact that this is a bioengineered society._

_ "You're sure?_

_ Yup._ Macen affirmed, _All of these people are superior examples of their respective species. It's like being surrounded by a multiracial band of Kelvans._

_Oh joy._ T'Kir grumped, _Just what the galaxy needs._

_ They seem harmless enough though. _Macen commented.

_Brin, _T'Kir grew exasperated, _they _kidnapped _you!_

Macen mentally shrugged, _A trifle._

_ Pretty big damned trifle if you ask me!_

_ So how are you holding up? _T'Kir could feel his concern.

_I tried to commandeer the ship so I could change course and come after you._

Macen laughed, _You're sweet._

_ It isn't funny, buster._ T'Kir irritably thought.

_Look, I'm fine, at least for now. _Macen reassured her, _The captain of the ship wants me delivered unharmed and intact._

_ What about after you reach Chandilla?_

_ So Boromov knew about Chandilla? _Macen thought wryly, _Saves me from trying to guess where I'm headed._

_ How can you be so calm? _T'Kir wanted to scream.

_Because it's your turn to rescue me and I know you won't let me down. _Macen confidently replied.

_So you say._ T'Kir smartly remarked, _Personally, I'm not so sure._

_You will._ Macen assured her, _Trust me._

_ I do. _

_ Then I'll see you soon. _Macen replied, _I'll keep in touch. It may be a while though. This is really draining me and the ship's captain has just arrived. Looks like she wants to talk to me. See ya._

_ I love you! _T'Kir thoughtcast.

_I love you too. Bye._

T'Kir could sense the mounting strain on Macen's mind. He wasn't a natural telepath so he had to put in extra effort to open a mental dialogue with her. Distance added to the strain. She was relieved to have heard from him…and saddened all the same.

"He's gone." She whispered.

"Is he all right?" Riker looked poised to come over the table.

"He's fine." T'Kir took a deep breathe and relaxed, "He's fine for now. He doesn't know what they have in store for him but they want to deliver him to Chandilla in one piece."

"Did he say anything about their overall plans?" Riker wondered.

"I need to talk to Amanda." T'Kir's eyes sharpened and she rose from the table.

"I'll come along." Riker rose as well, "I need to hear what Brin told you."

"Fine." T'Kir relented without a struggle, "Tag along."

* * *

"It's a little late for that news." Drake fumed, "Our teams found the bloody bomb this morning and it bloody well detonated while they were trying to defuse it. Now half my SID teams and the SCE's demolitions squad are down with the flu."

"Sorry." T'Kir remarked, "I was knocked out so I couldn't get the message until a few minutes ago."

"Brin really feels these people are essentially peaceful?" Drake asked in disbelief.

"That's the gist of it." T'Kir confirmed.

"Tell that to the kidnapping victims or their families." Drake snapped, "The Federation President is their hostage for God's sake."

"I don't know what t'tell ya, Amanda." T'Kir retorted, "I'm going to take him at his word."

Drake pondered the situation for a moment and then sighed, "His information is only as good as his captor's. What they don't know they can't tell."

"Safe bet." T'Kir wondered where Drake was going with this.

"If only we'd taken prisoners in the Presidential raid." Drake grew agitated again, "Then we could find out what was going on."

"They'd only tell you what they'd been told to tell you." T'Kir primly pointed out.

Drake hung her head, "You can be irritating. Do you know that?"

T'Kir's smile blossomed, "It's a gift."

"All right." Drake leaned back in her chair, "Here are your orders: rendezvous with the _Defiant _and proceed to this Chandilla at best possible speed. Extract the prisoners as best you can by any means necessary and return to Federation space. Will you tell Riker that?"

"No need." T'Kir beamed, "He's here with me."

"Good." Drake firmly said, "Best news I've heard today. I'd hate to think you were showboating this little endeavour all by yourself."

T'Kir's cheeks coloured emerald but she remained silent. Drake filled in the silence.

"I have to inform Admiral Nechayev of Brin's 'report'. She and Noyce are spearheading the investigation into the kidnappings."

"Tell `em 'good luck' for me." T'Kir said dryly.

Drake sighed, "Clear this channel, T'Kir. I have work to do."

T'Kir saluted, "Aye, aye."

The viewer winked out and T'Kir looked at a rather bemused Riker, "That's how you talk to admirals!"

Riker held up his hands in surrender, "I never said a word."

"It's what you were thinking that aggravates me." T'Kir warned.

"Natch." Riker grinned and rose, "I think I'm going to give the watch over to Hannah for a while. Want to finish breakfast?"

"Of course!" T'Kir bounced up.

"Let's go then." Riker ushered her on.

* * *

Makra stood before Macen's cell and smiled, "Good news! The Proconsul of Chandilla wants to personally meet you when we arrive."

Macen frowned at Makra's enthusiasm and his lips twisted into a wry smile, "I suppose this is considered an honour."

"Of course!" Makra eagerly confirmed, "The Proconsul is both the Chief of State and the Head of the Genetics Council. Her every decision affects us all."

"I'm touched." Macen remarked dryly, "Truly."

"You will change your mind." Makra assured him, "As a token of her goodwill the Proconsul has ordered you released from this cell. You have been assigned quarters. Nelos will escort you to them."

"What about my utility belt?" Macen enquired.

A sly smile spread across Makra's face, "And your phaser along with it? The Proconsul is releasing you _not _rearming you."

"What about access to the ship?" Macen asked.

"Nelos will be your escort." Makra explained, "She will take you to the areas you have been cleared to go to."

"So I'm under house arrest." Macen commented.

"Essentially true." Makra conceded, "You will find your quarters, though rugged, far more comfortable than this cell."

"That wouldn't take much." Macen admitted.

"As long as you realise that this is a conditional release then you'll be fine." Makra stressed, "If you threaten my crew or our mission again, you'll spend the rest of the trip in here."

"Understood." Macen nodded and then asked, "How long is the rest of our trip?"

"We should be arriving in another day and half." Makra reported, "And take heed, the Chandillan day is twenty-eight hours long."

Macen remained impassive, "So noted."

Makra turned to Nelos, "Drop the forcefield, Jari."

Nelos struggled with the order and then finally relented. The electrostatic barrier isolating Macen from the rest of the chamber flickered out of existence. Macen grinned.

"Where can I shower, clean my teeth, and have a change of clothes?"

Makra chuckled, "Jari will show you around. Good day."

Makra spun on her heel and left. Macen was left gazing at a frowning Nelos.

"I suppose you don't approve?" Macen queried Nelos.

"You're the enemy." Nelos was fairly nonchalant, "You gunned down my comrades. I won't forget that."

"They happened to be attacking me and my wife at the time." Macen replied, "Or does that even factor into your mental equation?"

"No, it doesn't." Nelos coldly admitted, "You shouldn't have resisted. We were there to protect Boromov. You interfered. Now you're paying the price."

"That particular price seems open to discussion though." Macen observed.

Nelos snorted, "Just be grateful they haven't asked for my opinion."

"I am." Macen confided, "Trust me on that."

"I trust you as far as I can throw you." Nelos said mockingly, "I'm going to watch you every second."

"Prepare to be bored." Macen warned.

"We'll see." came Nelos' sardonic reply.

* * *

Astris stood, leaned up against the wall of the common area, and watched the other "guests" being brought to the dormitory. The majority of those taken were predominantly human. With greater rights and full membership into the Federation recently granted to self sufficient colonies, humanity had gained an even larger foothold in Federation politics. The change had prompted several worlds to encourage aggressive colonisation.

Among those to arrive were Vladimir Kirov, the Premier of Bolshevik, and Arlos Gannet, the President of Alpha Centauri. Hirjin Jant, the Governor of Risa, was also present. Whispered conferences between the gathering delegates brought word of a rumour that Gant Delane, Amelia Wynter, Drake Parsons, and Korista Schrieber, the Presidents of the Federation, Earth, Luna, and Mars respectively, had been captured and were in transit as well.

Astris seriously pondered the rumours. Delane was an Edosian. Even if the Chandillans had managed to circumvent Starfleet Security, the President still possessed three arms and legs as well as a native love of grappling sports. She found it hard to believe that he would be easily taken.

Astris took the opportunity of reflection to berate herself once more. She had been armed and ready to resist until she'd been gulled by the sight of Kara. With her present, Astris had been taken in hand like a lovesick schoolgirl. Astris vowed, for the uncountable time, that she would not be so easily manipulated again.

Kirov was pacing and finally came to rest beside Astris. Giving her a sidelong glance, he spoke, "I understand you were the first to arrive."

"Yes." Astris confirmed.

"Did the tsarina reveal anything to you or are were you left in mystery like the rest of us?" Kirov enquired.

"All I know is that we're gathered together for some presentation or another." Astris honestly replied.

"I saw your Legal Minister with this Proconsul Garane." Kirov spat, "I understand that you and she used to be quite intimate."

Astris turned to face Kirov, eyebrow arched, "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all." Kirov chuckled, "I was betrayed by my mistress as well. I was merely wondering if we could use your affiliation towards our benefit."

Astris thought back to yesterday evening when Jern Gelt had taken upon himself to "chastise" her over her "hostile" attitude towards Kara during their meal together. Gelt's backhand had nearly torn Astris' head off. In turn, Kara nearly broke the man in half. Astris had taken a small amount of comfort in the fact that Kara still cared.

"I'm not certain." Astris haltingly said, "Kara has expressed a profound…interest in my well being. That might be used."

"It's a thought." Kirov agreed, "Now if we only had a better inkling how to exploit your dear Kara's affections."

"I may have an idea…" Astris began and froze in mid-sentence as Gelt strolled into the room to join his fellow orderlies.

He graced her with a venomous look and then conferred with the deputy that had led in his place while he was the infirmary. Kirov noted the exchange and leaned in close to Astris.

"Problems?"

"He only wants to kill me." Astris whispered back.

"At last." Kirov whispered back, "A truly honest individual. This may work to our favour."

"Besides seeing me dead, I don't see how." Astris dryly retorted.

"I take it you and this Cossack have already exchanged pleasantries?"

Astris nodded and Kirov continued, "I am also willing to bet that your beloved Kara came to your aid. All we need do now is convince her that your life is in peril…"

"Won't take much." Astris muttered.

"And she whisks you away to safety." Kirov sagely explained, "A safety only available _outside _these walls."

Astris nodded in understanding, "A free roaming saboteur."

"At the very least." Kirov smiled, "Shall we consider you more of a well placed spy?"

Astris nodded, "I'll set the ball rolling as soon as Kara arrives."

"I do believe the dear lady is arriving as we speak." Kirov jerked his chin in the direction of the entrance. Kara stood silhouetted in the doorway. To Astris she appeared sad and lonely but these were signs visible only to those that knew the inner Kara. Astris gritted her teeth and said farewell to Kirov.

"I'm going in."

Kirov almost imperceptibly nodded, "Good luck."

Astris made way across the chamber for Kara. Kara saw this and noticeably brightened. Along the way, Astris collided with Gelt.

"Kara, I need to talk to…oof!"

Gelt threw her back and wheeled on to her position, "Watch where you are going you stupid cow!"

Gelt froze as a steely grip tightened around his neck, "It was an accident, Jern. I see that Beru is not safe here in your custody. She is coming with me."

Jelt twisted his neck to face Kara, "She's a threat."

"Only to your romantic illusions." Kara sneered. She released Gelt's throat and he rubbed it while she assisted Astris.

"Are you all right?" Kara whispered as she took hold of Astris' hands and helped hoist her to her feet.

"I've been better." Astris ruefully admitted and then thought to herself, _Damn brute can definitely hit like a charging bull._

"I've arranged for you to have separate quarters." Kara informed Astris, "I'll help you gather your things and then I'll show you to your rooms."

Astris exchanged a meaningful glance with Kirov. It conveyed a multitude of pent up emotions. Triumph was foremost but there was also a distinct tinge of guilt.


	14. Chapter 14

The second morning after Macen's capture had arrived. T'Kir maintained a stoic attitude. A layer of volatility seethed under the surface but she had surprised Riker with her level of control. He'd been concerned for her ever since her abortive attempt to hijack the ship.

The ship and crew had pushed hard for the last forty hours. They'd only had to drop below warp 9 once. Even then it had been a choice between blowing up and slowing.

Riker had already privately informed T'Kir of his plans to stop at _DS9_. Her eyes had flashed with anger but she remained silent. Dracas insisted upon at least eight hours to overhaul the engines. It wouldn't be a complete job but it would alleviate the worst problems.

Having the opportunity to have the station's engineers support the crew was a priceless gem. Twice as much work could be accomplished during the limited span of time. It was the best offer they'd get within the foreseeable future.

Riker had already commed ahead and set up a strategy planning session with Kira, Vaughn, Dax and Sam Bowers. Ro Laren had already announced her intention of sitting in on the session despite its purpose being outside her purview as the station's Chief of Security. Permission to attend had come at Vaughn's behest.

Riker was bringing T'Kir, Daggit, Radil and Grace to the meeting. That covered the usual Investigation Team and Riker's 2nd Officer. He wished he could bring Shannon Forger but she needed her sleep. Riker needed her fresh and alert when the time came for her to be on the bridge. He would brief her during her next shift.

"Now entering the Bajoran sector." Grace's announcement shattered Riker's reverie, "Bajor system in one hour twenty minutes. Add another thirty minutes or so to reach _DS9 _at sublight."

"Excellent Helm." Riker commended her, "Carry on. T'Kir, if you would join me in the Ready Room?"

T'Kir shrugged and rose out of her place in the XO's chair. Riker rose, straightened his flightsuit and gave Grace her final orders, "You have the ship, Grace."

Ceryx padded over from his place at an auxiliary station and relieved Grace at the helm. She made her way to the Captain's seat and lowered herself into it.

Speaking to the OPS officer, Grace issued her first order, "Continue scanning for traffic. We're headed for a commercial centre so we're bound to have a lot of company."

"Yes, ma'am." The OPS rating crisply replied.

* * *

Once inside the Ready Room, Riker seated himself behind Macen's desk. T'Kir, breaking tradition, decided to forgo the couch and instead took one of the two chairs arrayed in front of the desk. She was visibly upset.

"Don't get too comfortable, Tom." she irritably remarked, "We'll be getting Brin back."

Riker leaned forward to lean on his elbows. Folding his hands together, he spoke, "A temporary redoubt to be sure."

"Just remember that when the time comes to give up command." T'Kir warned.

"T'Kir, on average I'm in command for ninety percent of my shift and usually part of Shannon's. Why would I need to cling to the Captain's seat?"

T'Kir paused, grew uncertain and then blurted out, "I don't know. Just don't."

Riker grinned, "I'm duly warned. Now, about your strategy proposals, any thoughts?"

"A straight forward assault." T'Kir described, "We use elements of the Security details of both the _Obsidian_ and the _Defiant_ and tear wherever they're holding Brin apart."

Riker looked pained, "Have you ever thought that they'd execute him before we could reach him? What about the hostages? We can't abandon them."

T'Kir waved her hand as if swatting an insect, "Of course we rescue the hostages. That's a given."

"And how do we locate them?" Riker enquired.

"All right. My idea sucks. Let up already." T'Kir stuck out her lower lip.

Riker wearily shook his head, "That ploy may work with Brin but it's wasted on me."

"Spoilsport." T'Kir stuck out her tongue.

"You're free to go. Ask Daggit to come in here." Riker requested.

"Yessir, Boss Man!" T'Kir hopped to her feet and she exited the Ready Room.

"What a nut." Riker murmured.

* * *

Riker and the SID team members invited to the planning conference sat across from the station staff. Kira had requested an update of the SID's progress thus far. In exchange, she offered a synopsis of Starfleet Intelligence's latest reports. Now she opened the meeting to operations planning.

"My information is that the _Defiant _once again has a Romulan cloaking device." Riker said, "Is this true?"

Vaughn nodded, "The Star Empire equipped the latest ship with a cloak. They feel that since we're the frontline defence against a resurgent offence by the Dominion that we should have every advantage available."

"That plays in perfectly with my proposal." Riker announced, "My suggestion is that the _Obsidian _openly enter the Chandillan system. The _Defiant _would trail us under cloak. Once we were intercepted by the local defensive forces, the _Defiant_ could position herself to best help the _Obsidian_."

Riker paused before continuing, "The _Obsidian_ would directly negotiate for the prisoners' release. If hostilities broke out then Commander Vaughn's forces could come into play and help even out the odds somewhat."

"Do you have any estimate of the Chandillans' defensive strength?" Kira enquired.

"No." Riker admitted, "Given that this was presumably a Bajoran colony, I'm assuming the worst. Given Bajor's armaments program and the Militia's strength I'd have to estimate that they have somewhere in the neighbourhood of twenty-five vessels."

Vaughn whistled, "If that's true, then we'd be hard pressed if hostilities do break out."

"Pressed but not out of options." Riker countered, "Odds are that the force will be spread out across several systems, patrolling for threats. The home force should be fairly small and the _Defiant's _opening sneak attack will cripple several ships at the outset. The combined jamming capabilities of both ships should prevent the homeworld from contacting reinforcements."

Vaughn rubbed his chin before grinning, "You've thought this out, Commander."

It was Riker's turn to grin, "I did my best."

Vaughn laced his fingers, "Well, Captain, I think we've heard a workable option."

"But is it the best plan, Commander?" Kira asked.

Vaughn wore a rueful grin, "I came up with the same plan. It seems to maximise our assets without exposing us to unacceptable risk."

Kira considered this for a moment and then nodded once, "I agree. Good luck and may the Prophets be with you."

Kira turned to Ro, "Is Pytor Boromov in protective custody?"

"He's being guarded by personnel that have had no contact with Kara Gena or her accomplices."

"Good." Kira said firmly, "Everyone is dismissed."

* * *

Astris paced back in forth. She glanced out of the living area's large window. The sky was brilliant and the city stretched out before her. She wished the beauty could alleviate her nerves. Kara had been gone for almost an hour now and she was sorely tempted to exit and go exploring.

_Too soon, _Astris chided herself, _wait until you've gained Gena's trust._

In an effort to establish her credentials as a harmless prisoner Astris had listened to Kara's endless assurances of her safety and a promise from Kara that she would not allow any of the "honoured guests" to come to harm. The saddest part of it was that Astris believed her. Her being in Kara's flat ran contrary to Garane's wishes.

In the end, Astris had comforted Kara. They'd gone to bed and enjoyed a bout of lovemaking that was nearly frightening in its intensity. The raw honesty that came with all of their secrets being laid bare opened up a new dimension that enthralled Astris. Their relationship had a reached a new pinnacle. Astris was loathe to destroy it with her newfound secret.

_I must, _Astris reminded herself, _no matter what it costs me personally. I must gather my wits about me and seize the first available opportunity to escape._

Resolved, Astris began striding for the front door when it suddenly opened. Kara breezed in and radiantly smiled, "I just spoke with Proconsul Garane. Your being here has been authorised."

Astris frowned, "And if it hadn't?"

"You'd be here anyway." Kara replied, "Or aboard our ship."

"You have access to a ship?" Hope rose within Astris' heart.

"Of course." Kara laughed, "Don't you remember?"

"I didn't see much of it." Astris dryly reminded Kara, "What type is it?"

"It's a Q-ship." Kara answered, "We took a stock Nue Yards freighter and converted her into a gunship."

Astris reflected on that. The Nue Yards were Bajor's largest shipbuilding concern. Nue Efram was most likely the most prosperous person on Bajor. His favour had created other, lesser commercial empires.

The conversion had to have taken place away from Bajor. Astris inquired as to where the work had been done. Kara promptly informed her that the modifications and refit had been done at Morrifate.

Astris was aghast. Morrifate was the primary supplier of raiders to the Orion Syndicate and independent pirate captains. Outside of the Federation, Starfleet was hamstrung as to what to do. The Federation Council had imposed a trade embargo but it was next to useless since illegitimate concerns financed Morrifate's shipyards.

"They're criminals!" Astris protested.

Kara shrugged, "They were quite accommodating."

"Of course they were accommodating!" Astris shouted, "Latinum is latinum after all. You couldn't go to a legitimate shipyard because, after all, how can you legitimise a damned illegal operation?"

To her credit, in Astris' opinion, Kara wavered for an instant before replying, "It _is _a legitimate operation in the eyes of my government. Chandilla is my homeworld, Beru. It is more of a home to me than Bajor ever was. After experiencing life in the Federation I'll admit that some of its views are provincial but it's where I came from."

"_Came _from?" Astris repeated.

Kara squirmed, "I made my home with you, Beru. I don't want to leave your side."

"Are you certain you haven't already?" Astris asked.

"I hope I haven't." Kara's voice quavered slightly.

"You'll have to choose." Astris predicted, "Before this is over you'll have to make a choice between me and this life."

"Please," Kara pleaded in a whisper, "don't force me to."

Astris closed the distance between them and gently stroked Kara's cheek, "It's inevitable, my love."

A single tear trickled down Kara's cheek. She forced herself to remain calm despite the roiling emotions tearing her apart. Suppressing her fervent desire to sob, she spoke in an emotionless tone.

"Things are happening in the dormitory. You're needed."

Astris sighed. Her hopes were quashed. She'd seen the indecision in Kara's eyes and had momentarily felt her estranged partner would choose her over the madness of the Chandillan position. Now it seemed her anticipation was in vain. She wearily followed Kara out into the corridor and to the lift.

* * *

When Kara and Astris arrived, the dormitory was in chaos. Dozens of planetary leaders had arrived during Astris' absence. Gelt bristled when he saw Astris arrive but he remained where he was, content to unleash sullen stares. The entire room was centred on four figures.

During the planetary night, Gant Delane and the three Terran presidents had arrived. The beleaguered Federation President was in a defensive posture as a score of various sentients tried to push their way past Wynter, Parsons and Schrieber. Astris noted that Kirov was removed from the throng and was sadly shaking his head.

Astris dove into the crowd and waded through it. Reaching the human presidents she turned and began shouting at the encroaching, panicked public officials. She punched the closest leader in the nose. Next, she slapped the Duchess of Palegonia across the face. The crowd subsided and gave her room.

"Look at you!" Astris shouted, "You're like a nest of Cardassian voles salivating over a piece of detritus. If your constituents could see you now, what would they think?"

"The lady is right." Kirov called from the rear, "You're making fools of yourselves. Let the man have room and he'll set aside time to meet with you later."

The crowd began to disperse. They spread out across the common area and took seats at the tables or stood milling about. Astris turned and faced Delane. The three humans had dropped their arms and the Edosian was able to extend one of his hands in friendship. Astris accepted it.

Delane smiled, "My thanks Minister."

"I'm only doing what any ex-Starfleet officer would do, Mr. President." Astris grinned and wiped a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Quite effectively I'd say." Delane chuckled.

"Hello." Amelia Wynter thrust out her hand, "I don't think we've ever been introduced. I'm Amelia Wynter."

Astris shook her hand, "The esteemed President of Earth. Yes, I know who you are. I'm Astris Beru."

Schrieber came next, "Korista Schrieber. Call me Kori. I think you've earned the privilege."

Astris laughed, "Only if you call me Beru."

Schrieber smiled ear to ear, "It's a deal."

Parsons approached, "I'll admit I'm impressed. Drake Parsons is the name."

"That name is attached to a purported ladies' man." Astris wore a wry smile.

"Interested?"

"You're not my type." Astris replied.

"I can become your type." Parsons assured her.

"Not without a sex change operation." Astris dryly revealed.

The rest of the entourage laughed and Parsons shook his head, "That's a little more extreme then I'm willing to go."

"Too bad." Astris said mischievously, "I think you'd make a handsome woman."

"'Handsome' would be the word for it." Parsons muttered.

"Say," Delane was staring at the entrance, "isn't that your Legal Minister?"

"Yes," Astris said forlornly, "it is."

"Is she one of _them_?" Wynter asked.

"Yes." Astris answered in a dead monotone.

"You and she are, were, _close_." Wynter added.

"Yes." came the monotone reply.

Kirov approached and interceded, "Our dear Beru is utilising her romantic relationship with Minister Kara to affect an escape."

"A dangerous gambit." Delane commented, "The personal cost may be more than you're willing to pay."

"I'm not sure how much I'm willing to pay for our freedom." Astris admitted, "If Kara is willing to help then we have a future. Opposition will only breed resentment."

That caused a lull in the conversation. Kirov recovered first and took Wynter's hand, "My dearest Amelia, so good to see you again."

Wynter indulgently smiled, "You have always been a charmer, Vladimir."

Kirov sighed, "For all the good it does me."

"Vlad, your wife and I are friends." Wynter lectured, "You two may have an open marriage but I'm not quite that liberal."

"Too bad." Kirov murmured.

"How is it you've never come on to me?" Schrieber queried Kirov.

"Your tastes are a little wild even for me. I prefer one on one encounters not pluralistic sexual extravaganzas."

"You're no fun." Schrieber pouted.

"Can we focus people?" Delane asked, "One of our captors is giving Ms. Astris venomous looks and her Legal Minister is approaching."

Astris turned and falsely smiled, "Gena, come meet the Federation President."

Kara smiled with genuine delight, "Mr. President. I'm so honoured to have you here."

"An invitation usually works, Minister." Delane dryly remarked.

Kara blushed, "Hopefully you will soon learn why we had to take the steps we did to insure your presence."

"We'll see." Delane said noncommittally.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Kara asked.

"Yes." Wynter replied, "You can get us a flight out of here."

"You'll have the opportunity to leave after Proconsul Garane explains our proposal."

"She'd better hurry." Schrieber declared, "I've got a Prime Minister that's going to wreak havoc in my absence."

"Same here." Parsons agreed, "Myers has always wanted my job. Even though I've already got a Vice President she'll try and take over."

"I'll see what the Proconsul intends and get back to you." Kara assured them. Turning to Astris, she said, "If Jern gives you any trouble let me know and I'll deal with him."

Astris nodded, "I will. Hurry back."

Kara beamed, "I will. Trust me."

As Kara walked away Astris whispered, "If only I could."

* * *

"We're entering orbit." The Helm Officer reported.

Makra swivelled to face him, "Assume standard orbit. Communications, alert the Proconsul's office and inform her that her last honoured guest has arrived."

"Yes, ma'am."

Makra hit her comm badge, "Makra to Nelos."

"Nelos here." came the disembodied reply.

"Bring our guest to the transporter room." Makra ordered, "I'll join you there shortly."

"How many pieces do you want him in?" Nelos asked.

"Only one." Makra chuckled.

"Too bad." Nelos sulked.

"Poor baby." Makra said consolingly, "Get a move on."

"Yes, Captain. Nelos out."

* * *

Makra, Nelos and Macen beamed to the central courtyard before the Tower of Cooperation. Macen observed the statues. Their depictions weren't surprising since he'd witnessed the unity of the Bajorans and Cardassians aboard Makra's ship. The level of trust between them was indicative of a common cause.

"Impressive, is it not?" Makra playfully enquired.

"It's a laudable achievement." Macen conceded.

"Move it!" Nelos commanded as she jammed the barrel of her phaser into Macen's back.

"Gently." Makra chided her.

"This is a waste of time." Nelos fumed, "Let's take him straightaway to Interrogation and be done with it. Let the mind probe have him."

"Won't work." Macen predicted.

"The mind probe works on _everyone_." Nelos sneered, "No one can hide their memories from it."

Macen shrugged, "There's a first time for everything."

Rage threatened to consume Nelos and Makra intervened, "Remember your duty, Jari. The Proconsul wants to personally interview him."

Nelos let out a deep breath, "Come along, _Captain _Macen. Our Proconsul awaits."

"It'd be my pleasure." Macen said in a chipper voice. Makra led the way and Nelos trailed along. Macen noted everything but he held back on an escape attempt. He wanted to meet this Proconsul and he still had to find a way to help the detainees. Obtaining transportation off of this world was also a must.

_So much to do and so little help. _Macen mentally sighed.


	15. Chapter 15

T'Kir and Ro met in the station's Security Office. The ongoing repairs to the _Obsidian _were winding down and the Vulcan was anxious to proceed with their planned insertion into Chandillan space. Ro surveyed T'Kir's emotional state and shook her head.

"How close to falling apart are you?"

T'Kir stopped pacing and shot Ro an incensed look, "I'm fine."

"Rrriiiggghhhttt." Ro drolly remarked, "You forget, I've seen you like this before."

"My telepathy is under control, all right?" T'Kir said defensively.

"I wasn't suggesting otherwise." Ro said calmly, "All I was saying was that you're fraying around the edges."

"My husband has been kidnapped." T'Kir protested, "I think I have a right to worry."

Ro leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up on the desk, "But you yourself said that Brin feels he's in no real danger."

"As far as he knows." T'Kir deadpanned, "He arrived at Chandilla earlier today. They mentioned something about a mind probe."

Ro's feet hit the deck as she lurched forward, "Uh oh."

"What d'you mean 'uh oh'?" T'Kir demanded.

"It won't work." Ro informed her, "El-Aurian brainwaves are too different for conventional mind probes to work."

"Yeah, I've heard Kort complaining about it." T'Kir shrugged, "What's the big deal?"

"My friend Guinan got a concussion one day when the _Enterprise _was attacked." Ro explained, "I went to see her in Sickbay and they were monitoring her brainwaves. It was weird. I swear to the Prophets that there were two sets of brainwaves."

"Two?" T'Kir repeated.

"Two." Ro affirmed, "One was stronger and the other was like an echo. Dr. Crusher had no idea what to do about it."

"So?" T'Kir asked, "He shows up on monitors. Why wouldn't a mind probe work?"

"Think about it." Ro urged, "A mind probe locks onto and isolates the brainwave pattern and maps it out. How can it track _two _patterns?"

"Oh." T'Kir realised the implications.

"Add to that the fact that a probe is invasive and a monitor is passive." Ro added, "We have no idea what a probe will do to him."

"We need to leave." T'Kir insisted, "_Now_!"

Ro held up her hands, "I'm right there with you. Go talk to the engineers."

"Fine." T'Kir huffed and stalked out of the office.

"What've I unleashed?" Ro muttered and made to follow T'Kir.

* * *

"Oh, piss off, Tom." T'Kir snapped.

"Look," Riker growled, "I'm giving you one last warning: leave the engineering detail alone."

"They need encouragement." T'Kir protested, "They're slacking off."

"They're doing fine!" Riker yelled. He stepped back and took a deep breath. Releasing it slowly, he visibly relaxed. "Look, the question isn't about their motivation. The question is how schizoid will they be after you're done _frinxing _up their minds?"

"Y'know," T'Kir canted her head to one side, "you've been cranky ever since you found out that Hannah messed with your memory."

"It was a violation." Riker sighed, "Something about which you have no understanding."

T'Kir frowned, "Tom, somethin's gotta be done! These people are walking around like they're knee deep in _shuk_."

"What seems to be the problem?" Vaughn asked from behind the pair.

"My employer is trying to find new ways of motivating the troops." Riker said sourly.

"Using her vaunted telepathic powers, no doubt." Vaughn surmised.

"Got a problem with that?" T'Kir challenged.

"As a matter of fact, I do." Vaughn replied in steely tones.

T'Kir's eyes narrowed and then they widened, "You're using a Vulcan mental defence."

"Taught to me by a colleague named T'Prynn." Vaughn said with a tight smile, "Perhaps you've heard of her?"

Macen had spoken highly of T'Prynn. A Starfleet Intelligence Officer, T'Prynn had first made her mark as the mastermind behind the _Vanguard _station's security. Later, she moved to Special Operations and came to know Vaughn. Vaughn's daughter, Prynn, was named after the infamous Vulcan.

"Yeah," T'Kir grudgingly admitted, "I've heard of her."

"Then you know what kind of obstacles she faced." Vaughn developed his train of thought, "You know that they were similar to yours after a fashion."

"Yeah." T'Kir voice and expression were carefully neutral now.

"She overcame her obstacles and you can to." Vaughn concluded, "Brin raves about you and I'll admit that I've been impressed by you in the past. Don't let either of us down now."

"Dammit." T'Kir said forlornly, "There goes my comeback."

"And I was looking forward to it." Vaughn smartly remarked.

"Brin told me you were a wily ol' bugger but I never knew why until now." T'Kir admitted.

"High praise indeed." Vaughn grinned.

"All right," T'Kir relented, "I'll go away peaceably and leave everyone alone."

"I believe Commander Ro is looking for you." Vaughn revealed, "She's on the bridge."

"Okay, okay, I'm going." T'Kir waved her hands in the air as she strode away.

"Thank you, Commander." Riker breathed easily for the first time in ten minutes.

"Not a problem," Vaughn smiled, looking fifty again, "and call me Elias."

"Make it Tom and I will." Riker offered.

"It's a deal, Tom." Vaughn's smile grew.

"I suppose work brought you here." Riker guessed.

"I need to see Nog and then I'll be gone." Vaughn assured Riker.

"He should be with Dracas." Riker supplied, "Let's go find them."

"Lead on."

* * *

"Nog?" Vaughn called up the Jeffries tube, "Can you come down here?"

"Sure thing, Commander." The Ferengi Chief of Operations slid down the tube and faced his XO, "How can I help you?"

Vaughn grinned. Nog's youthful enthusiasm was infectious, "How close are you to being done?"

"We just have to finish tuning the matter/antimatter injectors and then we'll be done." Nog happily reported.

"How's Dracas treating you?" Riker asked.

"The Chief?" Nog wondered, "Just great. He said I was the best engineer he'd ever seen for a troll. That's good, right?"

Vaughn barely refrained from laughing, "You'd better brush up on Terran mythology before you decide how to take that particular compliment."

Nog scratched his left lobe, "Uh, okay."

"Get back to work mister." Vaughn ordered, "I'm still expecting you to report to the _Defiant's _engine room."

"No rest for the wicked." Nog grinned from ear to ear.

"Exactly." Vaughn agreed as the Ferengi began to shimmy back up the tube.

"A troll?" Riker asked mirthfully.

Vaughn nodded, wearing a bemused smile, "You know we've all thought it."

"But to actually say it?"

"I take it you're still breaking Mr. Dracas in?" Vaughn enquired.

"His edges are starting to smooth." Riker admitted, "But every time we think we've crossed a major hurtle something like this crops up."

"Keep the faith, Tom." Vaughn advised, "It's all you can do."

"I sometimes wonder." Riker sighed.

"If I can make it anyone can." Vaughn gripped Riker's shoulder and then began to walk away.

"Bye." Riker called out. Vaughn turned and waved. Having accomplished that, the Starfleet Commander exited the _Obsidian's _Engine Room.

* * *

"I'll be addressing the delegates as soon as I've finished with this meeting." Garane explained to Kara.

Kara grew pensive, "Why is this arrival so important? I thought you'd already greeted all of our guests."

"All but this one." Garane softly laughed, "He is special. He is a member of the Federation's Security forces. His team safely absconded away with Pytor Boromov."

"Then the Federation may already know where we are." A startled Kara blurted out.

Garane steepled her fingers, "Which is why he's here."

The lift chimed and Garane smiled, "Exactly on time. I knew I could count on Makra Nura." Garane released the door with a touch of a control. The slid aside and a Bajoran/Cardassian hybrid exited the lift. She was followed by what appeared to be a human male and a Bajoran woman wielding a phaser.

"Really, Captain, is the phaser necessary?" Garane asked.

Nelos shoved Macen forward, "Yes, it is!"

"Crewman!" Garane's voice was angry, "Stand down! You are dismissed."

"But?" the wounded looking commando stammered.

"Go Jari." Makra said in a subdued voice, "I'll be fine."

Nelos retreated back to the lift and departed. Makra looked to Macen, "Well played."

Macen was all affronted innocence, "What did I do?"

Garane chuckled, "What indeed? Captain Makra states that you have given your name as Brin Macen and that you are the Captain of a privateer survey vessel."

"Correct." Macen affirmed.

Garane was amused, "Giving me the exact answer without letting on to anything else? Why Captain Macen I do believe you've been interrogated before."

"I've been interrogated by Cardassians if that's what you mean." Macen supplied.

"I am not a typical Cardassian, Captain Macen." Garane chided him, "I have been raised in this paradise, this bold experiment into perfection."

"You want perfection?" Macen asked, "Ask the Omicron what their quest for perfection led them to."

"The who?" Garane was baffled by the reference.

Macen ignored the question and turned to Kara, "How's Astris holding up?"

Kara visibly started, "H…how do you know…"

"About Astris?" Macen asked clinically, "I was on Bajor the night you kidnapped her. My team led the investigative effort that brought us to Boromov. We had video footage of your part in the abduction."

"But the sensors were offline." Kara protested.

"The DVRs were still active." Macen explained.

"The whats?" Kara enquired.

"Digital Video Recorders." Macen answered, "They're archaic by our standards but they worked well enough to identify you."

Kara's mouth worked but no sound came out. Macen continued, "How are Sergeant Jared and Corporal Kelv doing? Are they adjusting to 'paradise'?"

Garane frowned, "You seem awfully well informed. Makra reported that you knew of our biogenic device but not of its contents. What else do you and your associates know?" What gaps in their knowledge are there?"

"They know what I know." Macen informed her.

Garane smirked, "And how would that be? You have no subspace transceiver hidden on your person. You've been denied access to our communications equipment so there is no way you could have relayed a message to your compatriots. Tell me what I want to know! Did Boromov retain his knowledge of our location?"

"I have no idea." Macen replied.

"You're lying." Garane said grimly.

Macen shrugged, "Boromov did not disclose the whereabouts of Chandilla in my presence. Captain Makra had to tell me the planet's name. I still do not know its location. As you said, I've been cut off from my crew so how would I know what Boromov has revealed to them?"

Garane stared Macen in the eye, "I can still see deception in your eyes."

Macen intently stared back, "There's nothing more I can tell you."

"We shall see." Garane decided, "You will sit in with the delegates as I make the first of our proposals to them. Afterwards, you can decide if we truly are your enemy."

Garane turned to Kara, "Go. Herald my arrival." Turning to Makra, she added, "Take Captain Macen to the Thirty-Fourth Floor dormitory."

Makra bowed her head, "Yes, Proconsul." Makra took Macen by the arm and led him to the lift. Kara held the door for them while they entered. She then stepped into the lift and rode down with the pair.

As the lift descended, Macen tried to appeal to her, "Minister Kara, it doesn't have to be this way."

Kara bitterly laughed, "Of course it does."

"I saw Astris' reaction to your arrival in her room. She was confused but more than that, she gazed upon you with eyes filled with _love_. Not just affection or infatuation but honest to the Prophets _love_. It's not too late to save that."

The lift stopped and Kara whirled on Macen, "What do you know about anything?"

"I know how you feel about it." Macen calmly replied. His eyes met Kara's and he held their gaze, "I know how conflicted you are over holding her. Let go. Release her and be done with it. Maybe you can preserve your relationship."

"And the others?" Kara demanded, "You?"

Macen shrugged, "That's a matter of conscience. Do what you _need_ to do and be at peace about it."

Kara looked uncertain. She cocked her head to one side, "That's an odd way to beg."

Macen slowly shook his head, "You misunderstood. I'm not worried about me. One way or another I'll be all right. I'm worried about you."

"Well, don't be." Although she projected confidence, Macen could feel her turmoil festering under the placid surface, "I'll be all right no matter what happens."

"Even if Beru rejects you after this?" Macen hated to ask.

Kara looked stricken. Anger welled up and she slapped Macen across the face, "Stay out of my affairs! Beru and I will be fine. We'll be stronger than ever. You'll see."

"I hope so." Macen admitted despite the intense stinging brought on by her augmented strength, "For your sake I truly do."

Makra cleared her throat, "Milady?"

"Yes?" Kara snapped.

"You're both due at the dormitory."

Kara looked crushed. "Bring him." she instructed in a resigned voice.

* * *

"Ma'am?" the Ops Watch Officer said to Kira as the Captain emerged from her office, "Both the _Defiant_ and the _Obsidian_ are requesting departure clearance."

Kira nodded as she came down the steps into Ops, "Grant it. Secure prioritised transit rights through the system and send them on their way."

"Already done, Ma'am." the young Benzite officer beamed.

"Good work, Lieutenant." Kira smiled, "Send one last message along to them."

"Hailing frequencies are open, Ma'am."

"Good luck." Kira transmitted, "May the Prophets watch over you."

* * *

Macen's arrival had caused quite a stir amongst the captive "delegates". The crowded around him and demanded to know which world he represented. Gant Delane ended the speculations by announcing that Macen was one of the Federation President's special advisors. Delane herded Macen to the rear of the room, along with his inner circle of conspirators, and began to interrogate Macen.

"Captain Macen," Delane grinned, "I'm surprised to see you here. Delighted but surprised."

"I'm a little surprised myself, Mr. President." Macen admitted.

"Pardon me for asking," Kirov interrupted, "but who is this?"

Delane waved two of his three arms up and down over Macen's form, "This, Premier Kirov, is Captain Brin Macen, an operative of Starfleet's very own Special Investigation Division."

Kirov rubbed his chin, "I thought they were a myth."

The Edosian chuckled good naturedly, "Hardly. Macen here was one of those responsible for there being a Presidency to be elected to."

"My team and I played a very small role." Macen insisted.

"Not according to the chief architect of our government's salvation." Delane's grin grew wider, "Bob Johnson tells me that you were invaluable."

"Admiral Johnson is very kind." Macen replied, "He gives credit even to those that least deserve it."

"Then what about Admirals Nechayev and Drake?" Delane gave Macen a canny look, "They have also sung your praise in my presence. Of course, they've also cursed your name a time or two."

A wry grin spread across Macen's face, "I can imagine."

"So what is the plan?" Delane asked with delight.

Macen was confused, "What plan, sir?"

"The escape plan." Delane elaborated.

"There isn't one." Macen's announcement might as well have been a pronouncement of death. He quickly amended his statement, "There isn't one _yet_. My ship and the _USS Defiant_ are on their way even now to affect a rescue."

"How can you be sure?" Parsons asked.

"I'm still in contact with a member of my crew." Macen quietly revealed.

"When will they arrive?" Astris eagerly asked.

"Another twenty-two hours or so." Macen whispered.

Schrieber opened her mouth to ask a question but Kara cut her off, "Attention Ladies and Gentlebeings. Proconsul Garane, duly appointed civic leader of Chandilla and Chairperson of the Genetics Council, will now be addressing you. Please find a seat."

Murmuring to itself, the crowd found seats and faced the opposite wall as the entrance to the dormitories. A large viewer was located above the speaker's head and a logo appeared on it for the first time. It was a Bajoran spiritual symbol fused into a Cardassian military symbol.

While the whispers raged, Garane softly entered the chamber and took Kara's place at the head of the room. She waited patiently for the noise to quell. Finally, with a swat to the head from a fellow "delegate", the last speaker fell silent. Garane radiated poise and confidence as she faced the expectant, and irritated, crowd.

Garane had changed out of the mundane robes she'd worn in her office. Now she was bedecked in crushed burgundy velvet and white lace. Her dress reminded Macen of Terran fashions from the 1700s.

Garane's eyes swept the room. They rested on each individual for a moment before fluttering off to another guest. Her smile was warm and benign. After visually "greeting" every participant in this impromptu conference, she spoke.

"For those of you that need a reminder, or a fuller introduction, my name is Illa Garane. I am the leader of this world. You have been brought here to hear our offer and then you will be free to go."

Silence loomed and Garane's smile fully bloomed, "You will note that I said 'offer' not demands. We have no demands to make except that you be here and listen to what we propose."

The screen shifted images and a solar system was now depicted, "One hundred years ago, the first Bajoran settlers arrived on this world and claimed it for their own. They built a thriving agrarian world that supported over two thousand settlers. Sixty years ago, the Cardassians reached these 'shores' and a choice was made."

"Conquest was not a choice." Garane declared, "Rather, the method for building a lasting cooperative union between Bajor and Cardassia was at issue. The scientific leader of the expedition won the debates and modern Chandillan society was born. The Bajorans welcomed the Cardassian arrivals and listened to their proposals. In the end, the goals of unity and genetic perfection were endorsed by _both _sides."

"Cloning techniques were introduced as well as gene sequencing and selective breeding programs." Garane described, "It was your attitudes against such practices that made us approach you covertly rather than with an open diplomatic mission. Your prejudices dictated what actions we were to take."

There was grumbling at that and Garane laughed, "I've forgotten! Your society knows no faults. You are beyond such things as simple prejudices…yet you are willing to stand in judgement before me and my kind before we've been given the chance to speak in our own defence."

"Let us set aside our differences and focus on what we, as a society, can offer you." Garane happily offered, "Our people have not known war or violence for one hundred years. Our leaders are specifically chosen for their ability and their non-violent views."

"You have just come through a turbulent division of your ranks and are still struggling to heal all the wounds between you." Garane was intently focused now, "We can help. Create a new advisory committee, one that speaks both to your Executive and your Legislative branches, and we will assist you in overcoming these unstable days. We want to help, just allow us!"

Stunned silence met her words and Garane bowed her head, "Discuss it amongst yourselves. I will be back tomorrow to discuss matters with you again."

Garane exited the chamber and Kara approached Astris, "Coming?"

"I'd rather stay here and mull over what's been presented." Astris replied.

Kara was crestfallen but she recovered herself well, "As it should be. That's why you're here."

"Find me later." Astris urged.

Kara nodded, "I'll be back later."

Kara made it to the door then gave Astris one last lingering look before exiting. Macen smiled. He didn't know what Astris was doing but between her actions and his words, Kara was crumbling.


	16. Chapter 16

With Forger and the Gamma shift in command of the ship, the SID team was free to meet with Ro in the Main Briefing Room. Ro sat in Macen's usual spot at the head of the table. It was a calculated move and it had the desired effect.

As the team members finally settled down, Ro spoke, "All right people. You all know who I am. Just as a reminder, in case you've forgotten, I'm Macen's former commander in the Maquis. Forget about my position as Chief of Security back on the station. I'm on emergency leave from Starfleet and as such I'm operating as a civilian."

Ro bared her teeth, "Basically, I'm a Maquis again." Ro let her words sink in before continuing, "Given my past, and my ongoing relationship with Brin, I'm assuming command of the Investigative Team. I'll be planning the extraction of your Captain and the hostages."

_This _announcement was met with general stirring and a couple of murmurs. Ro raised a hand to quiet the group down, "I've reached this decision with the consent of both Tom Riker and T'Kir. I know I've never worked with most of you but I'm sure we can get along. I survived the Cardassians and the Jem'Hadar. I think my résumé speaks for itself. Any comments or questions?"

"Why the sudden involvement?" Daggit asked, "The Captain once offered you a position with the team and you turned him down. What makes you want to help us now?"

"I owe Brin Macen." Ro admitted, "He's saved my life and the lives of other good men and women dozens of times. I didn't accept his invitation to join this team because it's _his _team. He would have had me lead the team when it's rightfully his baby. I wouldn't let him do that to himself."

"But…" Radil started to say.

T'Kir interrupted her, "Ro can do the job. Brin, Lisea and I owe our lives to this woman's leadership. She overcame odds we haven't faced yet and she did it on a daily basis. We're lucky to have her."

"If I may," Danan said and all eyes turned to her, "I trust Ro implicitly with my life. Brin learned how to command at her feet. T'Kir's right. We're fortunate that she's here. She won't lead us astray."

"So what's your proposed game plan?" Daggit inquired.

"First I'll let Tom describe our approach strategy since that's his brainchild." Ro deferred to Riker's presence.

* * *

"…and so, we'll transport a party to the surface and let them scout out the locations of the various prisoners." Riker finished explaining.

"Which is where I come in." Ro took over the briefing, "We'll descend in the runabout and greet the locals in person."

"Not that I mind flying the _Corsair_," Grace piped up, "but why utilise a runabout when we can presumably use the transporter?"

"Because we need the runabout's sensors to ascertain the whereabouts of the hostages." Ro explained.

"Oh." Grace said with dawning realisation.

"Do we try and rescue the hostages right then?" Radil enquired.

"No." Ro answered, "The first visit to the surface is strictly a scouting mission. Our second descent will be a rescue operation."

"`Bout time." Radil grumbled.

"Your presence on this mission is optional." Ro coldly replied. Radil's surprise was palpable. Ro continued, "The extraction team will be composed of the SID with the exception of Tom…and Radil if she refuses to participate. Tom will remain aboard to command the _Obsidian_. Grace will fly the runabout and Lisea will provide sensor coverage. The rest of you will comprise the scouting team."

Of course," Ro wore a wry smile, "the actual extraction plan will depend upon our sensor readings."

Kort nodded his approval, "Sensible."

"I'm glad you approve." Ro dryly remarked.

"I think we need to focus on our goal." Dracas suggested, "We are rescuing the Captain _and_ the various hostages. That is tantamount. All of your petty concerns must be set aside in order for this to happen."

All eyes were on Dracas as he continued, "Ro is capable. She claims authority in this matter and I see no reason to deny her the opportunity to lead us to victory."

A tense moment of silence followed. Finally, Daggit cleared his throat, "I didn't mean to sound critical."

"I did!" Radil chimed. Grace backhanded her arm and Daggit shot her an annoyed glare.

"What it boils down to is this: what would the Captain have us do?" Riker spoke.

Daggit met T'Kir's eyes, "Is this what he would want?"

"Yup." she confidently replied.

"I'm satisfied." Daggit announced.

"I'm not." Radil snorted, "What gives you the rimmfff!"

Grace held her hand over Radil's mouth, "She's happy too."

Radil swatted Grace's hand aside, "Like hell I am! You're all determined to do this though, aren't you?"

Everyone nodded and Radil blew out a long breath, "Fine. I'm with you too."

"I can see where Brin learned his authority structure from." Ro deadpanned, "I suppose I should have told him I just making it up as I went."

"He knew." T'Kir bubbled.

"We all did." Danan voiced.

"Hell," Ro grumbled, "There goes the mystique of infallibility."

"We love you because you're one of us grunts, Laren." T'Kir happily said.

"Small comfort that." Ro said sourly.

"All right," Riker clapped his hands together, "everyone's dismissed. It's time to grab a meal."

* * *

Kara returned to the dormitory housing the Federation delegates and found it in chaos. Delane had taken Garane's previous spot at the head of the room and was fielding comments and questions from the various planetary leaders. The orderlies watching the room seemed amused by the proceedings. She also noted that Macen kept himself aloof from the discourse.

She made her way across the back of the room and came to rest beside Macen, who leaned against the back wall. He'd noted her presence but had not betrayed his reaction with so much as a flicker in his eyes. He studied the proceedings and seemed vaguely disgusted with what was occurring.

"Something the matter?" Kara whispered as she leaned up next to him.

"Besides the fact that I'm a prisoner?" Macen queried her in reply.

"You'll be released as soon as they are." Kara assured him.

"What happens when you receive an answer you don't like?" Macen turned his head to face her.

The General Manager of Tellar began to shout at Delane and Kara winced, "You don't think they'll seriously consider Proconsul Garane's proposal?"

"No." Macen said with an air of finality.

Kara winced despite herself, "You don't know. How can you be so certain?"

"Garane's comments regarding genetic prejudices are right on target." Macen elaborated, "They see the genetically enhanced as megalomaniacal supermen. Their collective experiences with such types have been universally bad."

"But we're a stable society." Kara protested, "Bred out of careful, clinical study."

"I'm not the one that needs convincing." Macen reminded her, "They need to _see_ your society at work. Show them practical examples of how Chandilla functions and you may prove your case."

Kara smiled, "I'll go talk to the Proconsul. Thank you."

Macen merely graced her with a dry expression and shooed her along. Kara shuffled out of the chamber and disappeared. Macen briefly wondered if he shouldn't have given Kara the suggestion. He dismissed his doubts with a shrug. A glimpse into daily life here in this genetically manufactured "paradise" would prove to be the doing or undoing of Garane's proposals.

"We should be arming ourselves and escaping from here rather than arguing amongst ourselves." Grozik of Tellar loudly declared.

"Finally," Arlos Gannet, the Chancellor of Alpha Centauri, proclaimed, "a Tellarite with no stomach for arguments."

"Come over here _human_ and see what I have the stomach for!" Grozik bellowed.

Gannet held up his hands, "Geez, Grozik, learn to relax. It was a joke. You know…a jo-oke."

"Spare me your humour." Grozik grumbled, "We need a plan."

"We have a plan in motion." Delane announced, "Our plan is to wait for Starfleet to arrive and extract us."

"That could take forever." Grozik whined.

"Patience friend Grozik." Hirjin Jant, the Governor of Risa, urged, "Perhaps we can accomplish two things while we wait."

"Like what?" Grozik snapped.

"We can learn more about our abductors and we can also seriously discuss their proposal." Jant elaborated.

"Their proposal is ludicrous!" Grozik laughed.

"I think it has merit but we need to know more about these people to see if they're ready for such a heady responsibility." Jant pressed his point.

"Are you insane?" Grozik barked. Echoes of this sentiment washed over the crowd. Jant wilted and sat down. Delane called for order.

"The proposal has merit." he announced to the stunned audience, "But I suggest we table any such discussion until tomorrow. Are there any further comments or suggestions?"

Delane's tone and demeanour indicated that the UFP President was in no mood to hear them if there were. None of the assembled "delegates" chose to risk Delane's ire. Everyone broke into pockets of discussion. Some flitted from group to group, gathering what the consensus was. Most contented themselves with their comrades in opinion.

A few souls approached Delane for a private conference. He graciously took them back to his assigned quarters and entertained them there. Meanwhile Kirov, Wynter, Parsons, Schrieber, Astris and Macen crowded into Wynter's room.

Kirov sat on the bed and sighed, "So close yet so far away."

Wynter swatted him upside the head, "Get off."

"If only I could." he said wistfully.

Wynter chuckled, "You're impossible."

Kirov's eyes twinkled, "I'm simply a naughty boy."

"No," Wynter countered, "you're…"

"If we could focus?" Astris interrupted the bantering, "Captain Macen, what did Kara have to say to you?"

Macen shrugged, "She wanted to know how the discussions were going. I told her they were stymied and suggested that the delegates be allowed to explore Chandilla tomorrow."

"She agreed to that?" Astris was astounded.

"She went off to discuss it with Garane." Macen informed her, "She was quite focused."

"She usually is." Astris broke into a wry grin.

"Your strategy is working." Macen suddenly said.

"My strategy?" Astris asked.

"Forcing Kara to choose between the Chandillan cause and you." Macen explained, "She's still trying to engineer a favourable resolution for her people but her connection to you is what grounds her. When the time comes, she'll choose you."

Astris studied Macen for a moment, seeing him in a new light, "Despite appearances, you're not human are you?"

Macen broke into a mischievous grin, "`Fraid not."

"Betazoid?" Astris guessed.

"El-Aurian." Macen revealed, grin intact.

"I've heard rumours regarding the mythical abilities of the El-Aurian refugees but I never believed them until now." Astris admitted.

Parsons took a renewed interest in Macen, "Can you really see the future?"

"Despite what you may be hoping," Macen's grin grew wider, "Astris and Kara will remain together and Astris _won't _be seeking solace from you."

Parsons blushed a bright crimson and Schrieber elbowed him in the ribs, "Never say die, eh Drake?"

Wynter folded her arms across her chest, "Lucky guess. How can you be certain Kara will remain true to Beru?"

Macen shrugged, "It's a matter of probabilities. It's more likely that course of action will be pursued than the contrary path."

"So you're gambling?" Wynter asked.

Kirov chuckled darkly, "I'd believe him if I were you. I met up with an El-Aurian. He was an unrepentant confidence artist but he was also the shrewdest gambler I'd ever met. Claimed he could read the probable course of events. I believed him."

Kirov intently stared at Macen, "I believe this one as well."

Macen took a bow, "Thank you for the vote of confidence."

"Don't thank me yet." Kirov waved the gratitude aside, "Just don't be wrong."

"All right, Mr. Secret Agent Man," Schrieber struck a similar pose as Wynter, "do you have any thoughts on escape?"

"A few." Macen cagily admitted.

"Let's hear them." Schrieber demanded.

Macen turned to Astris, "A lot of this depends upon you. Are you prepared?"

"I'm prepared for anything." Astris promised.

Macen wore a sad smile, "We'll see."

"Come." Garane called out to the computer as she ran a brush through her raven tresses. She had shed her gown and put on a nightgown and a robe. The nightie resembled a slip and was black. Her robe was a rich burgundy. The combination, on her enhanced physique, was stunning.

The door to her flat slid aside and Kara stood revealed. Brightening, Garane ushered her in.

"Don't just stand there, Gena, come in." Garane beckoned for her to approach.

Kara uncomfortably entered the space. Garane's quarters were both spacious and lavish. Taking up one entire floor of the tower, the flat rested directly beneath the Proconsul's office. Garane motioned for Kara to take a seat in front of the faux fireplace. It was scene Kara remembered all too well.

"Gena," Garane scolded, "what we had was wonderful but it's well and truly over so relax for Prophets' sake."

The tension in Kara's shoulders eased, "Sorry, Illa. It's just that with having my own relationship being so turbulent right now and this place is filled with memories."

"Fond memories I hope." Garane laughed.

Kara fervently nodded, "Of course they are."

"So totally relax and tell me what brings you to my door." Garane's smile was full of affectionate warmth.

Kara hesitated and Garane's smile blossomed, "You've never had trouble speaking your mind before so spill it."

"It's about tomorrow." Kara said with renewed confidence, "Why don't we take the delegates out into the city and the farmlands so they can get a better idea how we function as a society. These visits should allow them to freely walk around and contact whomever they desire so they can see that we're a free, open and functional society."

"Kara, that's brilliant!" Garane's smile was dazzling, "Why didn't I think of that?"

"I only wish I had." Kara admitted.

Garane was puzzled, "If you didn't then who did? Was it your lovely Astris?"

Kara shook her head, "It was the privateer captain, Macen."

Garane's smile twisted, "He's a shrewd one, our Captain Macen."

Kara frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I accessed the Federation's DataNet." Garane said with a conspiratorial air, "I researched our dear Mr. Macen."

"And?" Kara hated being left in suspense.

"He is a privateer as he claimed." Garane revealed, "He owns a highly prestigious, if small, security consulting service. Macen himself, and his ship, are exclusively contracted to an unknown party. Based upon his presence on Magna VII, it's obvious who his employer is."

"Starfleet." Kara deduced.

"It's also obvious that they won't take the capture of one of their operatives lightly." Garane remarked.

"He may be expendable." Kara opined, "Plausible deniability and all that."

"Perhaps." Garane chewed on the tip of her forefinger. It was her favourite nervous habit. "Perhaps not." she surmised, "Based upon Jern Gelt's report of how easily Macen ingratiated himself with Gant Delane, I'm willing to wager that Macen is no ordinary operative."

"Are you certain that you can rely upon Gelt's report?" Kara asked, "His recent behaviour has been erratic."

"Gelt may be a lovesick fool," Garane chuckled, "but he's observant."

Kara bit her lip, "I may have to kill him. If he touches Beru again, I will."

Garane pondered this and then nodded, "Do what you have to. Gelt is useful but he can't allow his personal feelings to interfere with the mission."

"Thank you, Illa." Kara heaved a sigh of relief.

"So what are your plans when this is over?" Garane asked, "Will you return to Chandilla or will you remain on Bajor?"

"If Beru will still have me, I'll remain on Bajor." Kara answered then chuckled darkly, "Of course, I'll have to step down from my post as Legal Minister."

"Won't they imprison you?" Garane worried.

"Perhaps for a time." Kara shrugged, "If Beru will wait for me it will be easy to endure a penal colony for a season."

Garane sighed, "If only I'd captured your heart as effectively."

"Surely there's somebody in your life?" Kara asked.

"Well," Garane coyly replied, "there is a certain vedek."

"What's his or her name?" Kara demanded to know.

"His name is Vetris Yul." Garane said sheepishly, "He's wonderful. He's kind, attentive, gentle and most of all, not intimidated by rank."

"Sounds perfect." Kara was delighted for her old friend, "Tell me everything. How did you meet?"

"In the central market." Garane answered, "I had gone to…"


	17. Chapter 17

Astris helped Kara turn down the bed. She was restless. Thoughts of what Macen had asked her to do filled her mind. She knew she was ill at ease with what had been asked of her.

_More than that, _she realised, _my soul is troubled_.

"Beru," Kara was worried, "what's wrong?"

_Oh, hell. Here goes._ A downcast Astris thought. Aloud she said, "I want to go back to the dormitory."

"Why?" Kara was honestly perplexed.

"I can't do this anymore." Astris declared, "You've betrayed me, Bajor, and _us_. I can't stand the thought of being with you. Please take me back."

Kara was anguished and it tore Astris apart, "Beru! Please! Gelt will kill you in the morning."

"Better him then you." Astris tore her partner's heart out.

"There has to be something…something I can do to prove myself to you?" Kara pleaded.

"Let us go." Astris said coolly and calmly.

"Wh..what?" Kara was dumbfounded.

"Let the hostages go, Gena." Astris declared, "At the very least let Gant Delane and I go. That's how you can prove your love."

Kara began to cry, "Don't ask me to do this."

"I have to ask." Astris insisted, "For the sake of you and I. I don't want to lose you, Gena, but you can't go along with this and expect me to ever trust you again. Without trust, what is there in the end?"

Kara was on the verge of sobbing. She reached out towards Astris. Her voice came out as a ragged whisper, "I can't."

"Then take me back to the dormitory." Astris was adamant.

"Beru…" Kara was desperate.

"Now!" Astris almost shouted.

"Tomorrow." Kara gasped through her sobs.

"What?" Astris didn't believe her ears.

"If you still want to go tomorrow then I'll take you." Kara promised.

"What about Delane?" Astris pressed.

"No." Kara found a hidden reserve of strength, "You and I escape, no one else. I can secure a small shuttle that's perfect for two but three would stretch its resources."

"Fine. As soon as we reach Federation space you'll contact Starfleet and tell them how to reach Chandilla and how to free the prisoners." Astris set her terms.

Kara sniffled as she wearily nodded. She wiped her swollen eyes and spoke, "I'll even surrender myself to the authorities on one condition."

Astris was suspicious but she ventured ahead, "Name it."

"_We _get a second try when I get off the penal colony."

Astris felt a genuine smile creep across her face, "Easily done."

"What about tonight?" Kara asked.

"Oh." Astris had forgotten all about that, "Well, I don't think you should be alone."

"I still love you, Beru." Kara started to cry again.

"And I still love you, Gena." Astris confessed, "I just don't know how far I can trust you."

Kara sat on the edge of the bed and struggled for composure. Astris laid down and patted her chest, "Lie your head here and tomorrow everything will be all right."

Kara laid her head on Astris' chest and continued to weep. Astris gently stroked Kara's head and tried to soothe her. Eventually, Kara's tears dried up and after pulling up the blankets she fell into an exhausted sleep. Astris lay awake and planned tomorrows getaway.

_If only you'd come through Gena_, Astris held on to that hope with all of her being, _If only I can trust you once more._

* * *

The next morning found the various planetary leaders finishing up their breakfasts. Most were still drinking their morning beverage of choice when Garane arrived. She retook her previous position at the head of the room and waited for the various murmurs to cease.

"Greetings gentlebeings." she began, "I am seeking volunteers for an excursion outside."

This announcement was met with wary silence so Garane pressed on, "You will travel in groups _anywhere _you want to go on-planet and be able to see my people in the course of their daily lives."

"But we won't be able to talk to them." Grozik challenged.

"Quite the contrary," Garane's latinum smile was on full display, "You'll be free to talk to whomever you wish."

"But we'll have guards watching over us." Grozik continued his challenge.

"Each group of ten will have two orderlies to assist them." Garane described, "They will be at your disposal."

"I bet." Grozik snorted.

Garane let the comment pass unchallenged, "Once you exit the building, simply tell your guides what you would like to see and we'll arrange for it to happen."

"How do we know the visits will be spontaneous and not prearranged?" Jant asked.

"My people don't know you're coming." Garane said with delight, "Their reactions will be a testament to my culture."

"We'll see." Grozik was heard to grumble.

Garane remained chipper in the face of such intransigence, "Please begin filing out into the corridor. The lifts will carry you to the ground floor. Your escorts are awaiting you."

The crowd hesitated for a moment. Grozik yelled for the others to get out of his way and he charged out into the corridor. The others soon began to follow. Soon, a cluster of people were assembled at the doors waiting for their turn to reach the corridor and the awaiting lifts. Delane and his usual companions still lingered and Garane approached them.

"Do you not wish to partake of a day in the life?" she asked with a bright smile.

"We'll depart when Astris Beru joins us." Delane replied.

"Oh," Garane faltered, "that may prove difficult. Kara Gena took her out earlier. They'd expressed a desire to be alone. I trust this won't be inconvenient?"

"No." Delane shook his head, "We'll be on our way then."

"Without Captain Macen, of course." Garane's voice tightened.

"Is there a problem?" Delane enquired.

"Although today's outing is Captain Macen's idea, he won't be partaking in the privilege of inspecting our society first hand." Garane said with resolve.

"This is preposterous!" Delane's umbrage was laid bare, "You want us to trust you but you won't…"

Macen gently placed his hand on Delane's shoulder, silencing him, "It's all right, Mr. President. I'll be fine."

"I have, of course, arranged for the dear Captain to be entertained by a special pair of officers." Garane looked to the door, where Makra Nura and Nelos Jari stood, "Will they prove acceptable?"

Macen brightened, "Of course."

"Those two women are armed." Delane interjected.

"Of course they are." Garane laughed, "Captain Macen is an agent of the Federation, of Starfleet in particular, and you want me to trust him not to seize an opportunity to escape or sabotage our work here?"

Delane wanted to argue but quite frankly he could see her point, "I guess not."

"Of course not." Garane was all smiles again, "If you'd all follow me?"

Delane hesitated. His eyes met Macen's and Macen almost imperceptibly nodded. Still troubled but momentarily satisfied, Delane led his entourage out of the dormitory's main chamber. Garane exchanged greetings with Makra and Nelos and then departed with the Federation party.

Makra and Nelos approached Macen. Nelos wore an ugly sneer, "Still feel safe?"

"Easy, Jari." Makra counselled, "The Proconsul wants him alive and intact."

"Mentally or physically?" Nelos asked.

"Both." Makra warned.

"She's certainly a poster child for genetically enhanced stability." Macen quipped.

Nelos' hand went for her disruptor. Makra stopped her and hissed, "Do it and I'll cut you down myself. There won't be any more warnings."

Nelos growled and broke free from Makra's grip. She stalked off to the opposite side of the chamber. Makra slowly shook her head.

"You're not helping, you know." she scolded Macen.

"Sorry." he said without an ounce of contrition.

"I am worried about her, though." Makra admitted, "She's already been to a re-education camp. One more offence and she'll be shipped off to the penal colony on Algor's third moon."

"Tell me about this penal colony." Macen requested.

Makra cursed, "I know I shouldn't have said anything."

"Too late now." Macen grinned, "I'll find out somehow even if you won't elucidate me."

Makra sighed, "Algor is the largest gas giant in the system. It's a protostar. There's a habitable moon there. It's a ferocious place. It takes a certain kind of individual to survive in that environment. Those that are unable to adapt to the demands of our society are sent there."

"How 'ferocious' is Algor's moon?" Macen inquired.

"It's a primordial jungle." Makra described, "Myriad lifeforms of every description thrive on Mara's surface."

"Mara?" Macen asked.

"The name of the moon." Makra explained, "The colonists are denied spacefaring technology of any kind. Their tech base is that of a pre-fusion culture."

"Why the restriction?" Macen asked despite already suspecting the answer.

"Those sent to Mara are the…uncontrollable elements of our society. They cannot be allowed to return. We would have to kill them if they attempted to escape." Makra reluctantly answered.

"Let me guess: violent mood swings, megalomania, abnormally heightened intelligence and physical prowess not to mention a half a dozen other side effects. Does that sound right?" Macen's voice was tight.

Makra blinked in surprise, "Yes. But how did you…?"

"Welcome to the fate of every other culture's attempt at genetic engineering." Macen said with a tinge of bitterness, "I'm also willing to bet that the numbers of this type of individual are on the rise."

Makra hesitated and Macen curtly pointed out, "We don't have time for games, Captain. Both our societies are at risk here."

"The eugenics program is breeding individuals with greater capabilities but the genetically engineered are phenomenal." Makra revealed, "Unfortunately the engineering also breeds instability. The current ratio of successful engineering efforts lies around fifty percent."

"How many exiles are there on Mara?" Macen asked with dawning horror.

"Close to seven thousand." Makra woefully admitted, "That's accounting for all sixty years of the engineering efforts."

"And the numbers are growing every year because your geneticists insist upon expanding their engineering efforts." It was a statement, not a question.

Makra sadly nodded and whispered, "Yes." She lifted her eyes and faced Macen, "Now you know our secret shame."

Macen put a hand to her shoulder and squeezed, "I've heard worse."

Makra gratefully gazed at him, "You're being awfully understanding. I thought the Federation hated genetic engineering."

"They do." Macen confessed, "But I wasn't born or raised in the Federation."

"Then where…?" Makra faltered.

"This isn't even my native quadrant." Macen revealed, "I'm an El-Aurian."

Makra nodded with new understanding, "I've heard rumours about your kind. I thought you were mythical."

"Woefully short numbered but very real, Captain Makra." Macen grinned.

"Please," Makra actually blushed, "call me Nura."

"I'd be honoured." Macen admitted, "I'm Brin."

"So," Makra coyly began, "what is the life of a secret agent like?"

"You should know better than me." Macen's grin grew, "I'm just a humble privateer. Most of my contracts revolve around convoy duty."

"Liar." Makra laughed, "I've seen your corporate file as well as your public Starfleet record. You're either a covert operative for Starfleet or I'm an Andorian."

"So what's the weather like on Andor this time of year?" Macen teased.

Makra cuffed his shoulder, "You don't lie very well."

Macen shrugged, "What does it matter? Your mind is made up already."

"There's still room for doubt." Makra admitted, "Not much room, though, given how easily you spotted my troops on Magna VII."

"Could've happened to anyone." Macen breezily dismissed the notion.

"And we were pursued by a Starfleet starship during our escape." Makra's eyes twinkled.

"A science ship." Macen pointed out, "A civilian model surveyor available to any organisation with the proper licenses."

Makra placed her fists on her hips and held her arms akimbo, "How long are you going to maintain the pretence that you aren't an agent of Starfleet?"

"I _am _a licensed private investigator." Macen admitted, "Starfleet happens to be _one _of my clients."

"You have an exclusive contract." Makra tapped Macen on the chest with her forefinger.

Macen shrugged, "So Starfleet is my only client. The rest of Outbound Ventures works on an individual, bid by bid basis."

"And what kind of work does Starfleet have for a private investigator?" Makra demanded to know.

"Informal inquiries. Light protection work. Convoy duty." The last was said with a sigh, "Anything Starfleet doesn't want to get officially involved in."

"Like securing a potential witness?" Makra smirked.

"Now _that _is something the fleet would love to do." Macen happily said.

"Boromov once mentioned a special unit that attempted to shut down his operations. Afterwards, he enlisted in the effort to restore the Federation and earned a pardon for his gunrunning. He said that special unit was also part of that effort. Would you know anything about this?" Makra wore a predatory smile.

"How would I?" Macen asked, "I was busy trying to keep my company afloat. My ship was busy guarding convoys during the confusion that the coup wrought."

"So your company information states." Makra conceded, "I don't believe it."

"I'm sorry." Macen was genuine.

Makra sighed, "I'm not going to make you confess, am I?"

"No." Macen firmly replied, "I have nothing _to _confess."

"Fine." Makra sulked, "I'm going to get something to drink. Want to grab a seat and let me get you something?"

"I'll take a cup of _oopla_ tea." Macen requested, "It's the closest thing to breakfast tea that the Bajorans have."

"Any particular blend?" Makra was amused.

"Any blend will do but it needs to have a double dose of _sachri_ and a quarter ounce of _moos_' milk."

"Anything else, O' slave driver?" Makra was openly laughing now.

"That should do it." Macen said with a straight face.

A moment later, Makra joined him at the table and handed him a mug. Macen cautiously sipped its contents. He nodded.

"Perfect." He pronounced.

Makra smiled, "Glad you like it."

"What happens now?" Macen enquired.

"Could you tell me everything you know about the Mirror Universe?" Makra asked with unbridled curiosity. Macen flinched. Makra laughed.

* * *

Kara guided Astris to the central marketplace. Here Chandillans shopped, talked, traded and ate. Astris freely approached dozens of them and asked them uncensored questions about their world and the people living upon it. What she learned surprised her. Stopping for lunch, she sat with Kara and watched as the people went by.

"I've noticed that there are a lot of Cardassian/Bajoran hybrids." Astris idly observed.

"The equally low numbers of Cardassian and Bajoran settlers demanded crossbreeding if the eugenics program was to work." Kara said in between bites of her _hasperat_.

"Are there ever…mistakes?" Astris asked as delicately as she could.

Kara set her fork down and grew sad. Then she told Astris about Mara and the "settlers" there. When she finished, she was contrite and Astris was indignant.

"That's…that's…" Astris sputtered.

"The Federation locks its genetic engineering mistakes away in institutions. They're there for the rest of their lives." Kara reminded her.

Astris suddenly came up short. With a sheepish grin, she said, "It is kind of the same."

"Now, I know the institutions have better amenities," Kara added, "but they're deprived of their freedom. Our system doesn't do that."

"No." Astris said sarcastically, "Instead, it drops them on a hostile moon and deprives them of modern technology."

"But they get to build a better life." Kara insisted, "One of their own devising."

"You know, I once read where James T. Kirk tried a similar approach. It didn't work out so well for him." Astris retorted.

Kara sighed, "I won't argue history with you, Beru. I take it you still oppose having my people acting as advisors to the Federation?"

"To be blunt, your society doesn't have the experience to act as advisors to anyone." Astris replied, "Maybe in a few hundred years, after your society has proven it's viable, we'll talk."

"That's what I was afraid you'd say." Kara said with a note of frustration.

"Why are you afraid?" Astris asked.

"You are a reliable barometer of what the moderate faction thinks." Kara explained, "The conservative element was expected to side against us but we were trying to persuade the moderate political elements. That, apparently, was futile."

"What will Garane do?" Astris asked with growing dread.

Kara shook her head in open frustration, "I don't know. She engineered our reconnaissance and abduction plan. I'm not sure how far she's willing to go to see her dream come to life."

"You and she seem…close." Astris wavered a bit, "Did you and she…were you two ever…"

"Yes," Kara admitted, "yes, and yes."

"What happened?" Astris found herself terribly intrigued.

"We made better friends than lovers." Kara simply said.

"Why?" Astris had to ask.

"She isn't the person I want to settle down with…or start a family with." Kara revealed, "You're that person."

Astris blushed, "I think I'm flattered."

"At least you didn't run away screaming." Kara said wryly, "The way things have been I thought that was a likely reaction."

"Gena," Astris' sincerity was palpable, "despite everything that's been going on, I love you. That's why I've fought so hard for you to come clean. We can make things work."

"You still want to leave, don't you?" Kara asked.

"Now more than ever." Astris admitted.

Kara sighed, "Finish up and follow me. The shuttleport is that way."

Astris rose and came around the table. Leaning down, she kissed Kara, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Kara said somewhat glumly, "I betray my people every day."

"Think of it as helping them." Astris suggested, "That's what got Elim Garak through the war."

"We'll see." Kara said stoically and finished her soufflé, "Ready?"

"Lead the way." Astris was eager to begin the journey.

Kara took their dishes and recycled them. Returning to the table, she took Astris by the hand and led her away. She'd chosen her course and there was no turning back now.


	18. Chapter 18

Garane looked expectantly at her tour group, "What do you think of Chandilla?"

The various leaders looked at each other. Finally, Amelia Wynter spoke, "It all seems very orderly."

"A work that required generations of effort I assure you." Garane boasted.

"It's a little _too _orderly." Kirov opined.

"What do you mean?" Garane warily asked.

Korista Schrieber planted her fists on her hips, "Every society, no matter how well adjusted, has malcontents. Where are yours?"

"Mind your place, mundane." Jern Gelt barked.

"And you mind yours, Gelt." Garane said hotly, "These are guests _not_ prisoners."

"Who are you calling a 'mundane'?" Drake Parsons demanded.

As Parsons and Gelt squared off, Schrieber placed her hand on Parsons' arm, "Easy, Drake. I can take an insult or two."

"Careful Gelt." Garane warned, "There's a re-education camp with your name on it."

Gant Delane calmly spoke, "If you would be so kind as to explain the insult and the purpose of a re-education camp?"

Garane placed her hands on her hips and looked defiant. After facing off with Delane for several moments her features softened. With a sigh, she began to explain.

"Gelt is a product of genetic engineering." She held up a hand to stymie any comments, "The bulk of our society is made up of eugenically bred citizens. There is a movement amongst a minority of the engineered to view the bred as mundanes."

"Essentially as inferiors." Delane clarified.

Garane reluctantly nodded, "Yes. Those that are discovered to hold these views are sent to re-education camps where they are schooled in the virtues of the common good."

"And if this 're-education' effort fails?" Delane pointedly asked.

Garane shifted uncomfortably. Slowly, haltingly, she described the penal colony on Mara. She revealed that the Chandillans maintained observation satellites in orbit above Mara's surface. The colony had had a rough start but was now starting to thrive.

When she'd finished she waited for an observation or a comment. Not receiving one she pointed out that the Federation maintained penal colonies. Parsons bristled.

"We rarely remand our prisoners to a life sentence. What about the prisoners' children?"

"They are born with the parents' instabilities." Garane sadly replied, "It is part of their genetic heritage."

"What a load of crap." Parsons retorted in disgust.

"We allowed the first generation of malcontents to live among us." Garane revealed, "Their children were worse than the parents. This isn't a decision that we came to lightly."

"In our system," Wynter intervened, "the individual has to commit the crime before being sentenced to it. We believe in the presumption of innocence until guilt is proven."

"That is fortuitous for you." Garane conceded, "However, it does not work in our society."

"Now wait a minute…" Schrieber hotly began.

"My dear," Kirov interrupted, "please remember the Prime Directive. It is not our place to judge this society. Our role is to determine if we wish to present to our Federation Council representatives our desire to have them discuss the Chandillans' proposal."

"Thank you." Garane graced Kirov with a grateful smile as Schrieber subsided.

"I believe we have seen enough." Delane announced, "Perhaps we could return to the dormitory now?"

"Of course." Garane bowed her head, "Please follow me."

* * *

"I can't believe that leaving was that easy." Astris ran a hand through her hair. Kara knew it to be a nervous gesture.

"My position here is even higher than that of Legal Minister." Kara admitted.

"What _is _your position?" Astris had to know.

"I'm the Special Advisor to the Proconsul." Kara revealed, "Or at least I was."

"Oh, Gena," Astris reached out to Kara, "You never said anything."

Kara took Astris' hand in her own, "It doesn't matter. Choosing between Illa or you, you win every time."

"Not _every_ time." Astris said dryly, "Otherwise I wouldn't be in this mess."

Kara blushed, "I hadn't thought of that."

"It doesn't matter." Astris squeezed Kara's hand, "We're away and we can get help."

"The _Truncuator _didn't pursue us." Kara said grimly, "Hopefully the _Coorwin _will let us go as well."

"Speaking of the _Truncuator_, that was the smallest Cardassian warship I've ever seen." Astris said, "Where did she come from?"

"She's a _Girol_-class support ship. She was designed to escort a capital ship and draw fire from the _Galor_-class warships." Kara explained, "She was the escort for the original Cardassian colonial transport."

"The Cardassians left her here?" Astris asked in disbelief.

"She escorted freighters here until the High Command abandoned the colony for lack of resource harvesting." Kara described, "The _Truncuator _was decommissioned after that. Her crew simply returned her to Chandilla and stayed on with the colony."

"There's another warship, the _Coorwin_. What is she?" Astris enquired.

"She's a hybrid." Kara clarified, "She's a synthesis between Bajoran and Cardassian assault ships."

"And she's on patrol?" Astris wondered.

"Yes." Kara confirmed, "She'll be patrolling the least time approach vector to the Federation."

"We need to plan our escape." Astris insisted.

"My personal authority should get us past them." Kara assured her.

"And if it doesn't?" Astris demanded, "We need a plan."

"All right." Kara relented, "Do you have any suggestions?"

"Just one." Astris admitted.

* * *

Garane escorted Delane and the others back to their assigned dormitory. Makra and Nelos were still minding Macen. A sullen Nelos hung to a corner of the room looking quite unhappy. Makra, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying herself.

As Gelt and Dathar took up their usual positions by the door, Garane approached Makra, "Captain, I have a favour to ask of you."

Makra still wore a smile, "Name it, Proconsul."

"Continue to watch Captain Macen." Garane smiled, "It does not seem to be an odious chore."

Makra's smile grew, "It's no problem at all, Proconsul."

Garane was pleased, "Carry on Captains."

She exited the room and the Federation entourage approached Makra and Macen's table.

"You seem to have had an excellent time in our absence, Comrade." Kirov grinned.

"Nura, meet Vladimir Kirov." Macen made the introduction, "This is Amelia Wynter. This lovely lady is Korista Schrieber and this gentleman is Drake Parsons. Last but certainly not least, the esteemed President of the Federation, Gant Delane. Everyone, meet Captain Makra Nura."

Everyone greeted Makra. She politely fielded inquiries for several moments before waving off any more questions.

"Please, I've said too much all ready." She laughed.

"Leave the lady alone, ladies and gents." Macen came to her defence.

"You just want her to yourself." Parsons accused.

"We have need of you, Captain." Delane said quietly.

Macen made his apologies to Makra and followed the group down the corridor to their rooms. Gathering in Delane's suite, they relayed their discoveries to one another. The revelations regarding Mara dominated the conversation.

"I'm inclined to like these people." Delane admitted, "But their society just isn't mature enough to grant them the status of advisors to the Federation Council. I could see taking them on as a Protectorate or even an ally but nothing granting them control over our affairs."

"I agree." Kirov was the first to raise his voice. The others all agreed in short order. Macen waited and then added his agreement to the consensus.

"They're still too new of a civilisation to engender trust." Macen quantified the problem, "Their social evolution could go any direction from here."

"So now we know what course we'll propose to the rest of the gathered leaders." Delane said with a frown, "The only question is: how will Garane react to the news?"

"My impression is that she's sincere in her desire to return all of you to your homes as soon as the vote is finalised." Macen disclosed.

"Is this as a Listener?" Delane enquired.

"That comes from every ability at my disposal." Macen clarified.

"What about you?" Wynter asked, "You're a prisoner."

"Makra revealed to me that her standing orders are to take me anywhere I want to go once everyone else departs." Macen confided.

"I'll believe that when I see it." Parsons grumbled.

"Have faith." Macen grinned, "The Fates will prevail."

"Whatever." Parsons retorted.

"I think we're done here." Delane decided, "We'll see how the others feel when they return."

"Should be interesting." Macen opined.

"It will be." Delane predicted with absolute surety.

* * *

Garane reached her office and sat down behind her desk. Messages were queued up on her computer. Sighing, she began to view them. One brought her up short. It was from the central shuttleport.

Kara had taken a shuttle on her own authority. Since Astris had not return to the Tower Garane assumed that she was still with Kara. Garane cursed. She had been afraid that Kara would surrender to the 1st Minister's wiles. Now they were making a break for it with every probable intention of bringing Starfleet down on Chandilla.

She dispatched orders to the _Coorwin_ instructing her to search for Kara's shuttle and to detain the occupants. She would deal with Kara's treachery when she had been brought back. Now she knew she had another use for Captain Macen. It was time for the good Captain to reveal how much Starfleet knew about Chandilla or face the mind scanner. Either way, she'd get the information she required.

* * *

Alarms began to sound inside of the shuttle. Kara checked her sensors. Swearing, she threw the shuttle into a series of evasive manoeuvres.

Alarmed, Astris asked, "What's going on?"

"It's the _Coorwin_." Kara grimly answered, "She's outside of her patrol route."

"Someone must have anticipated that we'd try to skirt the assigned patrol lanes." Astris surmised. Taking action, she fired up the comm array.

"What are you doing?" Kara wondered.

"I'm trying to signal Starfleet." Astris explained, "I have to transmit Chandilla's coordinates before they can capture us."

"You'd better hurry." Kara advised, "They're closing fast."

Kara aligned the array and began transmitting. All of her hopes and wishes went with that transmission.

* * *

"Tom," T'Kir turned to face Riker's position, "I'm picking up a signal. It appears to be a distress call."

Riker winced at her use of his name rather than his title but he let it go…for now, "Put it on screen."

The screen shifted from its warped starfield view to that of a desperate looking Bajoran woman, "If you're receiving this, please relay this message to Starfleet Command. My name is Astris Beru. I'm the 1st Minister of Bajor. There will be a reward for you if this message is received by the Federation authorities."

Riker watched in wonder as Astris gave the coordinates of Chandilla and begged the recipient of the message to forward those same coordinates on. Her image rocked and Astris glanced over to her right. Another voice informed her that they were taking phaser fire.

"I don't have any more time." Astris concluded, "We're about to get recaptured. Dozens of lives are in your hands. Please, please pass this information on to Starfleet."

The image winked out and Riker stood, "Source of the transmission?"

"Traced and forwarded to the helm." T'Kir fired back.

"Hannah?" Riker prompted Grace to action.

Grace tapped several controls, "Maximum warp in three seconds. ETA is four minutes."

* * *

"Sir," Sam Bowers began to report, "the _Obsidian_ is taking off at warp 9.71."

"Faster than our own top speed." Vaughn said to himself.

"They're responding to the distress call." Ezri Dax surmised, "So what do we do?"

"We increase speed and follow them." Vaughn grinned, "Hopefully they won't get in over their heads in the time it takes us to catch up."

Dax grinned back, "Right. Helm, maximum warp. Lay in a pursuit course."

"Yes, Ma'am." Prynn Tenmei broke into a manic grin and inputted the commands. A moment later the _Defiant _leapt from warp 6 to warp 9.65.

* * *

Garane entered the dormitory. Several of the tour groups had returned by now and a lively debate was waging between delegates. Macen held himself apart from these discussions. Makra stood beside him and watched the proceedings with some amusement. Garane signalled Nelos to join her. Nelos snapped to and followed the Proconsul as she made a beeline straight for Macen.

Macen could sense Garane's anger and determination even before she confronted him, "Can I help you, Proconsul?"

"Captain," Garane snapped, "seize him! Bring him to the examination room."

Makra looked stunned but she drew her phaser out of its holster and aimed it at Macen. Nelos wore a gleeful expression as she covered Macen with her own weapon. The debates had ended and the Federation representatives were openly staring at the proceedings.

"Is there a problem, Proconsul?" Delane attempted to intervene.

"Stay out of this, Mr. President." Garane warned, "It is none of your concern. This man possesses information that I require. I will have it."

"Surely Captain Macen will cooperate." Delane tried to soothe her anger.

"That is up to him." Garane snapped and stormed out of the dormitory with Macen in tow.

* * *

"There it is!" Grace called out as the _Obsidian_ dropped out of warp. The Chandillan shuttle was dodging and evading low power phaser blasts. The larger ship was trying to disable the auxiliary craft.

"Their tractor beam is primed and ready." T'Kir reported, "Once the shuttle is disabled, she'll be brought into tow."

"If they aren't beamed away first." Riker muttered to himself, "Tactical, what do you make of that ship?"

"She seems to be a fusion of designs. The outer structure, the hammerhead melded to the isosceles triangle with low slung warp nacelles indicates a union of Bajoran and Cardassian assault designs. The equipment I'm reading indicates a synthesis of technology too." Daggit summarised.

"What's their reaction to our arrival?" Riker asked.

"They're shields have gone up and the rest of their weapons array has powered up." Daggit answered.

Riker hit his comm badge, "Riker to Telrik."

"Telrik here."

"Lock onto the occupants of that shuttle and bring them aboard." Riker ordered.

"Can't" Telrik replied, "Their shields are still up."

"T'Kir?" Riker prompted.

"I'm on it!" came her reply.

* * *

"What the hell?" Kara demanded.

"It's a starship!" Astris exclaimed, "It's Starfleet!"

"It's a science ship, Beru." Kara tried to calm her partner down, "The _Coorwin_ will destroy her."

The shuttle lurched and smoke filled the cabin from the rear quarter. Kara shook her head, "The engines have been disabled. Now they're going to lock onto us with a tractor beam and bring us aboard."

"Can't they beam us out?" Astris wondered.

"Not as long as the shields are still up." Kara replied, "They're awfully weak but they'll still block a transporter."

"_Obsidian_ to shuttlecraft." A woman's voice came over the comm's speakers, "Drop your shields and prepare for transport. I repeat, drop your shields and prepare for transport. We're from the Federation. We're here to rescue you."

"Drop the shields!" Astris ordered.

"It could be a trick." Kara protested.

"Whether they tractor us in or beam us aboard doesn't matter." Astris argued, "Take a chance."

Reluctantly, Kara deactivated the shields. Mere seconds later, an annular confinement beam caught them and then they began to discorporate. The world blurred and then the couple realised that they were standing in a transporter room being stared at by a jovial looking Tellarite.

"We made it!" Astris threw her arms around Kara's neck and fervently kissed her.

Kara blushed, "If I'd known that was going to be your reaction, I'd have dropped the shields ages ago."

Astris actually giggled and drew close for another kiss. Telrik took the opportunity to report to the bridge that he'd recovered the pair. Riker acknowledged and said Radil and a Security detachment would be present shortly.

The doors slid open for Radil and Collins to enter. Seeing the two women locked in an embrace, Collins grinned, "Sparks ideas, eh?"

Radil ignored her, "Excuse me, we're here to take you to the bridge."

Kara and Astris separated. Seeing Kara's unobscured face Radil drew her sidearm, "Hands up. Lace your fingers behind your head with your feet spread apart. Abby, search her for weapons."

"What is the meaning of this?" Astris demanded.

"This _is _Kara Gena is it not?" Radil enquired.

"Yes, but…" Astris started to say.

"There's a Federation-wide warrant for her arrest." Radil interrupted, "I'm taking her into custody."

"But she freed me!" Astris yelled in protest.

"She kidnapped you first." Radil retorted. Collins gave her the all clear, "All right Abby, place the binders on her."

"This is ridiculous." Astris fumed.

"It's all right, Beru." Kara reassured her, "I'll just be turning myself in a little earlier than expected."

"I'll speak to the captain." Astris promised, "I'll see to your treatment."

"Good luck with that." Radil snorted, "He's a prisoner on the same planet that you were held on."

"This is Captain Macen's ship?" Astris' eyes widened.

"Yep." Radil confirmed and took hold of Kara's arm. Collins marched behind the duo, hand on her phaser.

"Watch out for her, Telrik." Radil called out as she left.

"Oh, no you don't." Astris declared and followed the Security team out of the transporter room. Telrik reached for his comm badge when the ship shuddered. Realising that the ship had just been struck by an energy weapon, he opted to cancel calling the bridge until things had settled down.


	19. Chapter 19

The _Coorwin_ fired on the _Obsidian_. It was a low level phaser strike. The _Obsidian's _shields easily handled it. Riker was annoyed.

"Hail them, T'Kir." Riker ordered, "Let's find out what's wrong with these jokers."

"They're hailing us, and brother, do they sound pissed." T'Kir replied.

"Put it on screen." Riker warily said.

A Cardassian's visage appeared on screen. He was livid, "Release the two prisoners to us at once and we'll allow you to go on your way."

"Those were two Federation citizens that we beamed aboard." Riker countered, "Tell me why they were imprisoned and I'll consider your terms."

"They are escapees from our penal colony." The Cardassian angrily replied, "They hijacked a personal shuttle and made to escape. They must be returned to us."

"Why were they sentenced to a penal colony?" Riker enquired.

"Surrender them or be fired upon." The Cardassian warned, "You have one minute to decide."

The screen shifted to the picture of the _Coorwin_ hanging in space. Riker stroked his beard, "That was unfriendly." Straightening up, he began his rounds, "Tactical, threat analysis?"

"Their ship carries twice as many phaser emitters as ours and they're twice as powerful." Daggit described, "The only place where we outmatch them is in shield strength. Our shields are stronger and possess more regenerative capability."

"T'Kir," Riker growled, "remind me to lecture our dear captain on his unwillingness to upgrade our weapons package."

"Not a prob." T'Kir chimed.

"Helm," Riker continued, "plot us a course the hell away from here."

"That's awfully hard." Grace lamented, "The Cardies are sitting in the middle of our prime exit vector."

"First off, we don't know if they're all Cardassians." Riker retorted, "Second, you're supposed to be a navigational genius so start navigating. Third…where the hell is the _Defiant_?"

"I thought I spotted her a coupla minutes ago." T'Kir answered, "But I haven't seen a sign of her since."

"Maybe they're lying doggo," Grace opined, "waiting to decloak when we need her the most."

"Get back to your calculations." Riker ordered, "We have to assume we're on our own so let's use what's left of our minute…"

"Seventeen seconds." T'Kir interjected.

"…and plan our escape." Riker finished irritably.

Daggit suddenly yelled, "They're firing!"

Riker staggered as the deck plating shuddered, "Why the hell are they shooting at us?"

"Maybe they read our minds and know we're not gonna give Astris and her pal back." T'Kir offered as one explanation.

"I read comm traffic aimed at the enemy ship." Daggit revealed, "My guess is that they received orders to fire."

The ship shook again.

"What are they targeting?" Riker wondered.

"Engines and weapons." Daggit answered, "They're trying to cripple us."

"Which means they want prisoners." Riker surmised, "We can use that."

The deck plates groaned as another barrage was deflected by the shields.

"How the hell can we use _that_?" T'Kir demanded.

"It'll come to me." Riker yelled back, "Trust me."

* * *

Ten thousand kilometres distant, the _USS Defiant _decloaked and targeted her pulse phasers on the _Coorwin_. Bolts of concentrated phaser fire, each twice as powerful as a conventional Type X stream phaser discharge, lashed out and struck the Chandillan ship. The _Defiant _closed the distance while maintaining her barrage.

* * *

"Woo hoo!" T'Kir cheered, "The _Defiant's _pounding `em!"

"Told you." Grace said victoriously.

"T'Kir, begin jamming subspace." Riker quickly ordered.

"Too late." T'Kir angrily replied, "They already got a data squirt through."

"Damn it." Riker's fist came down on his armrest.

"Commander," Daggit interrupted Riker's dark thoughts, "The enemy ship's shields are failing. She's hailing the _Defiant_."

"Put it on screen." Riker said.

The ragged features of the Cardassian appeared on one side of the screen and Vaughn's stern countenance appeared on the other. The Cardassian spoke first, "For the love of the Prophets, we surrender. We have wounded we need to treat."

"Do you require assistance?" Vaughn asked, "We can beam aboard medical personnel."

The Cardassian shook his head, "My people can handle it."

"Why did you fire on our sister ship?" Vaughn wanted to know.

"We had orders." The Cardassian said miserably, "Straight from the Proconsul."

"What were those orders?" Vaughn pressed.

"We were to disable the Starfleet vessel and take it under tow to Chandilla." The Cardassian commander replied, "Her intended fate after that is unknown to me or my crew."

"Do you currently have warp capability?" Vaughn enquired.

"No." came the weary reply, "My engineers haven't reported how long it will take to repair but it's safe to say it will be several hours."

"Good." Vaughn said coldly, "We'll be returning this way. Do not interfere with our operation or you will be destroyed. Understood?"

The Cardassian nodded, "Understood."

The screen shifted back to its view of the stricken assault ship. Next, T'Kir perkily announced, "The _Defiant_ is hailing."

"Let's not keep the good Commander waiting." Riker replied, "Put it on screen."

A much happier looking Vaughn appeared on the viewer, "Hello Commander."

Riker grinned, "Hello yourself, Commander. Tell me, why did you wait so long to take action?"

"We were doing a threat assessment." Vaughn replied jovially, "Besides, it might teach you not to run out on your teammates."

From the XO station, Ro snorted. Riker ignored her, "Time did seem to be of the essence. We barely arrived in time to rescue the 1st Minister and…"

Riker looked around, "Does anyone know who transported aboard with her?"

"Check with Radil." Ro suggested, "You _did _send her to greet the guests."

Vaughn laughed, "I see I'm not the only to get helpful 'pointers' from her."

"No." Riker wryly replied, "She seems to take even more delight in it if it's me. I think it has something to do with my brother."

"Yes." Vaughn said knowingly, "You should hear the war stories, especially the ones that involve memory loss."

Riker was perplexed and Vaughn waved the suggestion away, "Never mind that. Are you ready to resume?"

"Just give the word." Riker eagerly said.

"Warp 6?" Vaughn asked.

"Sounds perfect." Riker agreed.

"See you at Chandilla." Vaughn signed off.

"Hannah, previous course and speed." Riker ordered.

"You've got it." Grace happily replied.

"So what about this memory loss angle?" Riker asked of Ro.

Ro burst into laughter, "I'll tell you what, you go check in with Radil _and _wait until this mission is over, I'll tell you all about memory loss and what happens during it."

Still not satisfied but knowing that was as close to an answer as he was going to get, Riker stood, "T'Kir, come with me."

"Yes-sah Mr. Boss Man, sah." T'Kir bounded up and away from her station.

"Have you ever considered depressants?" Riker asked.

"Nah." T'Kir elbowed him in the ribs and stepped into the lift as the doors opened.

Riker shook his head and wondered if it was safe to enter the turbolift.

"Hey!" T'Kir protested, "I heard that."

_Heaven help us, _Riker thought glumly, _here we go again._

"Hey!" Came the inevitable protest.

* * *

Garane stormed into the examination room. Macen was strapped into a seat. His head was surrounded by three flat panels. Makra and Nelos stood guard as three techs tried to calibrate the mind scanner.

Makra turned to the incensed Garane, "What is the matter?"

"Two Starfleet ships just disabled the _Coorwin_." Garane fumed, "They are on their way here."

"We'll destroy them." Nelos' manic grin disturbed Makra.

Garane turned to Makra, "How many scout craft can we scramble to support the _Truncuator_?"

Makra thought for a moment, "Nearly a dozen."

"Alert the various captains." Garane ordered, "I want those ships in orbit immediately."

"What about my crew?" Makra asked.

"No." Garane decided, "I want you here to bolster the Tower's defensive forces."

Makra bowed her head, "As you wish." She then excused herself to place her calls.

Garane shifted her attention to Macen, "This is your last chance to willingly give up the information I seek. The scanner is uncomfortable since it is invasive. It will leave you weak and disoriented. Do you truly want that fate?"

"It really doesn't matter at this point." Macen said in resignation, "I won't talk and I really doubt that this machine will work on me."

"Overconfidence will be your undoing." Garane warned, "This machine has read the strongest minds."

"It's not a matter of strength." Macen counselled, "You just don't know what you're dealing with."

"I'll find out soon enough." Garane bitterly replied.

* * *

"I'll be damned." Riker muttered, "What is she doing here?"

Kara calmly returned his gaze, albeit from behind a forcefield, "I'm here to help extract the Federation prisoners currently on Chandilla."

"You helped take one of those same prisoners." Riker reminded her.

"And she helped me escape." Astris declared with her fists firmly planted on her hips.

"I'm still suspicious about that too." Riker declared, "What's with her sudden change of heart?"

"I did it for Beru." Kara confessed, "If it weren't for her I'd still be on Chandilla."

"Why did you do it?" Riker demanded.

"I needed to prove my love to Beru." Kara firmly stated, "Helping her contact Starfleet and surrendering to you seemed the best way to do that. I'd do it again if the need arose."

"You say you want to help?" Riker asked and Kara nodded, "Fine. Give us a schematic of the place where the prisoners are being held. Give us whatever security codes you know and details of the expected response to a rescue effort."

Kara wrestled with the request for a moment. She squared her shoulders and boldly asserted, "I'll do it."

"You'll find a padd next to the food replicator." T'Kir spoke at last, "It's tied to the library computer. You'll find architectural programs stored there."

Kara retrieved the padd and queried the computer. Selecting an appropriate program, she went to work. Astris got into Riker's face.

"She's doing her part so cut her some slack." She insisted.

"T'Kir?" Riker queried the Vulcan.

T'Kir shrugged, "So far she's told the truth."

"Just keep on it." Riker said to Astris' confusion, "I want to know the moment she lies."

"Of course. I'll…yeeeeeaaaaaarrrrggghhhh!" T'Kir clutched her head and collapsed while screaming at the top of her lungs.

* * *

Macen screamed. He screamed until his throat was raw and then he screamed some more. Garane whirled on her technicians.

"What's wrong with him?" she demanded.

"He displays multiple brainwave activity." One panicked tech answered, "We can't get a lock on any one wave pattern."

"Recalibrate the machine!" Garane ordered.

"We're doing that." The tech rebutted, "It's having no effect."

If any thing, the screams grew louder. Garane endured it for as long as she could and then she made her decision.

"Deactivate the scanner." She instructed the techs. They complied and Macen passed out.

Nauseated, Garane asked, "Could you adjust the machinery and try again?"

"Proconsul," the lead tech spoke again, "the physiological data suggests that a second attempt so soon may prove to be fatal."

"Damn." Garane cursed. Pacing back and forth, she wrestled with what to do next, "Utilise the readings you have and adjust the machinery to isolate a single pattern and ensnare it."

"Yes, Proconsul." The tech bowed her head.

"Captain," Garane turned to Makra, "take Captain Macen to one of the empty guest suites. I don't want the Federation delegates seeing him in this condition. Monitor him and keep him there until I call for him."

Makra was uncertain, "Shouldn't a physician attend to him?"

"You have your orders, Captain." Garane simply replied.

Makra and Nelos unstrapped Macen and picked him up and carried him out of the chamber. Garane was left with her thoughts. Guilt threatened to overwhelm her. _No, _she resolved, _I won't succumb to guilt. I did what was necessary. I'll do it again as soon as the machinery is adjusted. Prophets help me._

* * *

T'Kir struggled to her knees. Riker supported her, "What the hell was that?"

"The bastards are torturing Brin." T'Kir angrily rasped. She shrugged off Riker's hands and unsteadily rose to her feet.

"How can she know this?" Kara asked.

"She shares a telepathic rapport with Captain Macen." Riker explained, "What happens to him happens to her." Riker turned to T'Kir, "I thought he could block your telepathy?"

"He can." T'Kir was livid, "They're tearing his mind apart. He doesn't mean to transmit the pain but he has no rational capability with which to block it."

"How can you justify this?" Riker demanded of Kara.

"They must be using the mind scanner." Kara said with shame, "It's never had this effect before."

"Brin isn't your usual somebody." T'Kir snapped.

"So I've noticed." Kara admitted.

T'Kir eyed Kara. Her eyes narrowed and she studied the Bajoran for a moment. With a grunt she relaxed.

"I guess you have." T'Kir surmised.

"You just read my mind?" Kara asked. T'Kir nodded and Kara grinned, "That must be handy."

"You have nooo idea." T'Kir replied.

"It can also be dangerous for her and others." Riker interjected.

"Don't be a downer." T'Kir rebuked him, "I just had a traumatic experience. Let me savour the moment."

"Speaking of which," Riker asked, "what happens if it happens again?"

"Then I go from simply killing those responsible to making it last." T'Kir solemnly vowed.

Riker's comm badges chirped and he slapped it, "Riker."

"Ro here. We're rapidly approaching Chandilla. You might want to come up here."

"Right." Riker said dourly, "I'll be there in a moment."

Turning to T'Kir, he said, "This isn't over."

"Yes, it is." She confidently replied.

Seeing that her resolve was unwavering Riker made to leave. T'Kir lingered for a moment. Facing Kara, she spoke.

"Think of where the Federation hostages are being held." T'Kir stared into space for a moment and then nodded, "Got it. Thanks."

T'Kir left and Radil approached Astris, "Our yeoman is here to escort you to your guest quarters."

"Can I see Kara again?" Astris enquired.

"Check with the Security officer on duty and you'll be allowed monitored visitations." Radil explained.

"What about now?" Astris pleaded.

"Now isn't good." Radil sternly replied, "See your cabin, settle in, and check back with my deputy."

"All right." Astris relented. She turned to Kara, "I'll be back, Gena."

"I'll be here." Kara offered a wan smile.

Astris waved before exiting the room. Another stern faced Security officer replaced Radil. Kara slumped onto the cot provided for her in the cell. Forlornly, she began working on her diagram of the Tower of Cooperation.

* * *

T'Kir bounded out of the lift. She came to stand behind the CO and XO's stations. Ro rose from the XO's seat and looked back at T'Kir.

"You made it just in time to leave again." Ro grinned.

T'Kir noted that Ceryx was here to relieve Grace. Tanner was sitting at Tactical and Daggit was imparting final words of advice to her. T'Kir's own relief had been manning OPS for nearly half and hour. Looking around, she nodded.

"Good." T'Kir said gruffly, "I have some payback to dish out."

Ro frowned, "Is there something I should know about?"

"They're torturing Brin." T'Kir seethed, "Everyone involved is going to pay."

"All that 'eye for an eye' _shuk_ may have worked while we were in the Maquis but it won't fly now." Ro said resolutely, "We represent something greater than ourselves now."

T'Kir bitterly laughed, "When did you become a moralist, Ro?"

"When I put my Starfleet uniform back on." was Ro's simple answer.

T'Kir wore a sly grin, "If you hadn't noticed, Laren, I'm not wearing that uniform and neither are you."

"It's always on, T'Kir." a convicted Ro replied.

"How nice for you." T'Kir smartly remarked, "I never chose to wear it and I don't."

"Are you going to be a problem down there?" Ro asked.

"Only if you get in my way." T'Kir calmly answered, "I'll make you think you're a six-year old girl again."

"So," Ro shook her head, "we _are _going to have a problem."

"Laren," T'Kir growled, "I'm gonna…"

Ro held up her hands, "Look, just take prisoners. I'll overlook how roughly they're treated to a point. We're here to solve an interstellar incident _not_ to create a new one."

T'Kir backed off a bit, "Point taken. Can we go now?"

"Tom?" Ro asked.

"Their cruiser is moving in to intercept." Riker answered, "You might have a delay if they decide to shoot at us."

"So it's business as usual for the SID?" Ro joked.

"How did you know?" Riker dryly replied.

"Brin tells me everything." Ro playfully smiled.

"You'd better get going." Riker remarked, "I want you on standby when we assume orbit."

"Right." Ro nodded, "Let's head out people."

The bridge crew assembled in the lift and Ro tapped her comm badge, "Ro to Danan."

The reply was cut off by the closing doors. Riker turned his full attention to the approaching Cardassian warship. _Let's see what you're up to. _Riker thought as his eyes narrowed.


	20. Chapter 20

"OPS," Riker had made his decision, "hail that warship."

The OPS rating did as he was told. A few minutes later the rating transferred the call to Riker's station. The screen of the shared Command data console displayed a middle aged Bajoran male.

"This is Hav Resan, commander of the _Truncuator_; identify yourself and your intentions." The Bajoran said.

Riker drew himself up, "My name is Thomas Riker. I'm the 1st Officer of the Federation surveyor _Obsidian_. My intentions are peaceful. I'm merely here to conduct a survey of your world."

"We have no need of such a survey." Hav scoffed.

"The survey would be utilised by the member worlds of the Federation." Riker politely explained, "It would enable them to tailor trade and diplomatic missions to your tastes."

"Let me confer with my government." Hav said and terminated the comm circuit.

_He doesn't trust me and he doesn't need to_. Riker thought, _I just need to slip into orbit._

* * *

Several minutes passed and then the OPS officer called out, "Sir? There's an incoming message from the planet."

"Is there now?" Riker was intrigued. His request had obviously been bumped up to someone in charge. "Put it on the main viewer." Riker ordered.

The image that appeared amazed Riker. After spending a year in a Cardassian labour camp, he'd thought that all things Cardassian were intrinsically ugly. After almost a decade of freedom his tastes had softened somewhat but he still had difficulty finding the people themselves attractive. The woman that appeared before him now was breathtakingly striking and Riker immediately found himself drawn to her.

His reaction showed and the beauty smiled, "Hello Mr. Riker. I am unsure of your shipboard rank so you will have to excuse my generic greeting. I am Proconsul Illa Garane. I am the duly appointed leader of the cooperative society of Chandilla. What, may I ask, brings you to our fair world?"

"Greetings Proconsul." Riker rose and straightened out his jumpsuit, "My shipboard rank is Commander. I am the 1st Officer of the Federation starship _Obsidian_. My ship is a private contractor interested in surveying your world for the Federation."

"How did you ever find us?" Garane enquired.

"You're holding our Captain." Riker bluntly replied, "We simply followed you in an effort to retrieve him."

"And how do you intend to retrieve him?" Garane asked without missing a beat, "Our scans indicate that your ship is hardly a combat vessel."

"No, ma'am." Riker agreed, "The _Obsidian_ is a surveyor. She's designed for investigation not combat."

"And who would your captain be?" Garane asked warmly, "If we are ostensibly holding him it is only fitting that I be made aware of our unexpected guest."

"His name is Brin Macen." Garane blanched and Riker pressed on, "I see you know the name."

Garane forced herself to recover, "He is known to me as are you. Your company's advertising does little to credit your resourcefulness. I must ask again, how do you intend to retrieve your good captain?"

"I thought I'd ask." Riker admitted.

Laughter bubbled forth from Garane, "Such courtesy is rare. What do you say about meeting me and discussing the matter?"

"Very well." Riker nodded, "Can we assume orbit?"

"But of course." Garane said sweetly, "I'll signal the _Truncuator_ to follow you. If your sister ship should miraculously reappears, your ship will be destroyed. Understood?"

Riker struggled to restrain his temper. In the end, he managed to remain cordial, "Seems fair enough."

Garane's smile brightened, "My compliments, Commander. A lesser being would have tried to prevaricate. You merely absorbed your losses and moved on. Excellent!"

"I'll need landing coordinates." Riker announced.

"Landing coordinates?" Garane repeated with some confusion.

"Our transporter has malfunctioned." Riker lied, "We must use auxiliary craft to reach the surface."

"Ah," Garane warily said, not quite believing him, "I see."

"I'm glad." Riker oozed charm.

"Very well." Garane said breezily, "The landing site's coordinates will be transmitted over this carrier signal after I sign off."

"It's much appreciated." Riker said truthfully, "I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Until then." Garane bowed her head and the screen reverted back to its view of the _Truncuator_. The Cardassian ship had already inserted itself into standard orbit over the planet. The _Obsidian _mirrored her movements and came to rest on the opposite side of the globe. The _Truncuator _quickly moved up behind the _Obsidian_.

During the insertion manoeuvre Riker had paged Shannon Forger. Forger now stepped out of the lift looking bright and refreshed. She had an annoying knack of always looking bright and perky. Riker wondered what her secret was.

"Don't I ever catch you off-guard, XO?" Riker had to ask.

"All the time." Forger happily admitted, "The trick is to roll with the punches."

"Somehow I suspect that there's more to it but I'll let it drop for now." Riker joked.

A flicker of concern flashed across Forger's face but she swiftly recovered, "I take it you're off to play with the natives?"

Riker nodded, "Duty calls. Don't let the ship get blown up while I'm gone."

"I won't make any promises." Forger laughed, "Now get."

* * *

Riker entered the lift and requested Deck 4. As the doors closed and the lift moved, Riker found himself vaguely disquieted. _Something _nagged at his hindbrain. Forger had unsettled him and he wanted to know why.

_It's something to look into when this mission is done and we have a moment's peace._ Riker promised himself.

The lift doors opened and Riker strolled down the corridor until he reached the shuttlebay. He checked in with the Bay Chief. The bay was still pressurised so Riker entered it. Ro was pacing outside of the _Corsair_.

"There's no need for a send off." Ro smirked, "Just give us our damn flight clearance."

"There's a change of plans." Riker informed her, "I'm coming along."

Ro shook her head, "You're not cleared for dirtside action, Tom. I can't be responsible for your safety."

"It's only a reconnaissance, Ro." Riker pointed out, "The risk is minimal. Besides, I have a personal, scheduled meeting with the planetary leader."

Ro shook her head and her face twisted into a wry expression, "You had to stack the odds in your favour didn't you? You're more like your twin then you let on."

Riker held up his hands, "No need to get insulting."

"Yeah, I bet that's an insult." Ro caustically remarked.

"How about we call a truce?" Riker suggested, "You're cleared to depart as soon as I get aboard."

Ro rolled her eyes, "Climb aboard _Commander_."

* * *

Riker boarded the runabout. He wondered how turbulent Ro's relationship with his brother had been. She seemed to be out to needle him every second. He wanted to like her but she had her defences up and she was keeping him at a distance. He didn't know what to do.

Ro looked around the _Corsair's _cramped cockpit. Grace manned the helm. T'Kir sat at OPS. Danan was calibrating the Science station. Dracas sat at the Engineering station running system's diagnostics. Daggit stood at the Tactical station.

"We're getting our departure clearance." Ro announced as she shut the main hatch behind her.

"The bridge has transferred our landing coordinates." Grace announced.

"Take us down as soon as we clear the hangar doors." Ro ordered, "In the meantime, Commander Riker and I will be joining Radil and Kort in the crew compartment."

The flight crew all looked back to stare at Riker. Feeling self conscious, he managed to respond with a wave. Grace and T'Kir exchanged an amused glance before returning their focus to their instruments. Danan gave him a friendly smile. Only Dracas looked concerned.

Riker knew Dracas considered him to be a kindred spirit. Their origins by artificial means gave them a common ground not to be found with any other member of the team or the crew. They had had several in depth discussions on their experiences with intolerance and misunderstanding. Riker had grown to like Dracas and thought of him as a friend.

_I've never told him I feel that way._ Riker mused, _Perhaps I should correct that oversight._

Riker put that item on his growing agenda of things to do when the mission was accomplished. Ro ushered him to the runabout's rear compartment. Kort and Radil were engaged in a jovial conversation. From what Riker overheard before they silenced their exchange upon his arrival, they were exchanging humorous anecdotes. Riker was heartened to see them so relaxed around each other after their recent romantic falling out.

"Please carry on." Riker urged while he took a seat at an available chair situated around the centrally located table, "No need to stop on our account."

"Actually," Radil broke into a wicked grin, "we were hoping to get some juicy stories about Macen and T'Kir back in the day."

Ro smiled, "We should have time for one or two stories before we land."

"Don't leave us in suspense woman." Kort demanded, "Talk."

"Well," Ro began, "Shortly after Lisea called it off with Brin, he and T'Kir became even closer than before. Rumour had it that they were sleeping together. Of course, no one could catch them doing anything so the rumour took on a life of its own. The fact that T'Kir was sleeping with half of my cell didn't dissuade anyone from talking."

Ro continued, "It became such a matter of speculation that Aric Tulley installed spycams in their quarters. All that was ever shown was harmless camaraderie but the whispers remained. To make matters worse, Lisea was adamantly silent regarding her reasons for breaking it off. Their relationship was so unusual that we soon took it for granted that something was going on no matter what the evidence showed."

"Eventually we referred to Brin as T'Kir's boyfriend. She was pleased to no end by this and Brin was silent on the subject." Ro revealed, "To this day I don't know what was going on and they won't tell me. I think they enjoyed the game as much as we did."

"Yeah," Radil ruefully said, "they still enjoy playing head games."

"During a mission to free hostages that a Cardassian paramilitary group had taken I asked Brin what was between him and T'Kir." Ro confessed.

"What did he say?" Radil wondered.

Ro chuckled, "All he'd say was that it was complicated."

"So what happened on the mission?" Riker was intrigued.

"Well," Ro grinned, "I have to start at the beginning. Our cell had just struck a nearby shipyard and when we got back…"

* * *

"You have permission to depart." Bay Chief Fircrij said over the comm.

"Roger that." Grace replied, "We're beginning our launch. _Corsair _out."

"Here we go." Grace announced with a manic grin. Since the bay's gravity plating was still on, Grace activated the runabout's antigravs. The ship floated above the decks and waited as the bay depressurised. Once that task was completed the bay doors opened.

Grace brought the impulse engines to life and exited the bay at one quarter of maximum thrust. The view beyond the shuttlebay was breathtaking. The stars were a constant pinprick in the distance.

To the right of the ship lay the orb of Chandilla. The seas were a light green and the landmasses were differing shades of dark green and brown. Snow capped mountain ranges were visible. The atmosphere glowed from refracted light.

The only thing marring the view was the _Truncuator _hanging five thousand metres distant from the _Obsidian_. The ship's purpose was clear to all concerned. It was there to threaten the Federation ship and force obedience from the _Corsair's _crew.

Whether or not the _Truncuator _was a modern vessel or not was a moot point. She was a warship. Once again the _Obsidian _found herself overpowered and outmatched. The surveyor's hope lay in the masked presence of the _Defiant_. As had been agreed upon, Vaughn was laying low. The communications blackout would only be broken when the _Obsidian_ cried out for help.

The active EM emissions from the Cardassian ship indicated that she knew about the _Defiant_. The _Coorwin _had alerted her cousin as to the number of the approaching Federation ships but perhaps not about their full capabilities. The _Defiant's _cloaking abilities would probably still come as a surprise but there was no guarantee of that.

* * *

Sitting on the bridge of the _Obsidian_, Forger found herself hating Riker's plan. She'd hated it when she'd been briefed on it. As a career Tactical Officer, she found the part of decoy to be galling. She wanted to be the one springing the trap not the one relying upon the other ship.

Her senses alert and sharp, Forger fidgeted in her seat. The stimulants that she'd taken were coursing through her veins. Her brain raced and her heart pounded. Forger had first started taking stimulants over a year ago. The problems with it were the crash that followed the usage and the ever increasing doses required to achieve the same effect.

Forger constantly recited the addict's mantra to herself: _I can stop whenever I want to_. The problem was that she didn't want to. The high was worth the risks in her opinion. She saw things sharper and clearer than ever before. Her energy level was the highest it had ever been. Her aggressive tendencies were heightened but still manageable, at least for now. Her ego was beginning to run unchecked.

Riker's jest had startled her. She feared that her secret had been exposed. She'd already fumbled the XO's job once before and she was pushing herself to insure that she proved herself ready this time. So far, she'd passed every hurdle. No one suspected anything or so she hoped.

The price of maintaining her addiction was proving costly. She'd received several entreaties from her sister to communicate with her. Forger didn't dare. Amanda Drake was far too perceptive not to notice that something was amiss.

Forger and Drake had lost their mother to a rare, incurable illness but their father was still alive. Forger had cut off ties with him as well. He'd recently retired from being a project manager at the Antares Shipyards and settled down to a life of leisurely travel. He'd planned a trip to Barrinor to visit his youngest child but she had constantly shuffled the dates in order to stave off the impending visit. Like Drake, Nigel Forger knew his daughter too well not to notice her illicit activities.

Forger had obtained her drugs by writing a new subroutine into the EMH's program that was activated by a verbal command. The subroutine bypassed the EMH's memory logs and therefore Tessa literally wouldn't remember Forger's visit or the prescription issued.

Tessa had been inspired by the _Voyager's _Doctor's quest to achieve sentience and Forger hated to undermine the doctor's progress by manipulating her software. It seemed to undermine everything that Tessa was trying to accomplish. Despite her ill feelings at blatantly using Tessa, Forger continued her quest to acquire stimulants at any cost.

Sitting and stewing on the bridge, she waited impatiently as the seconds rolled slowly by. The OPS rating seemed to sense her impatience and gave a minute by minute update of the _Corsair's _flight. Forger didn't have the heart to tell him he was more annoying than the silence but enough was enough.

"They've reached what appears to be the central city and…"

"You don't have to give a blow by blow." Forger sighed, "They'll land soon and we'll be stuck waiting anyway."

"Yes, ma'am." The OPS rating said sheepishly.

Forger's dopamine fuelled confidence bordered on the reckless. She thought about coming about and engaging the Cardassian escort. The impetus to act was nearly overwhelming. However, she knew that would endanger the Away Team so she refrained.

_This is going to be a loooong day._ She thought miserably as she settled in to wait despite wanting to scream.

* * *

"Look!" Drake Parsons pointed out the massive window, "It's a Federation runabout!"

The Federation's planetary leaders crowded at the window to see the miniature starship land in the central courtyard of the Tower. A cheer arose. Gant Delane calmly called them back to their tables.

"We need to finish our debate." Delane reminded them, "The pro side was presenting their case. We need to allow them to finish."

Those favouring the Chandillan proposal were a highly vocal minority. They endorsed adopting the changes advocated by the Chandillans even if it meant leaving the Chandillans _out _of the equation. This approach was gaining support amongst the delegates. Only the most conservative still campaigned for an outright rejection of the idea.

The recommendation favoured amongst the assembled civil leaders was an advisory review board appointed by the planetary governments themselves. This would grant the individual states rights nearly equal to the constituent rights of the citizens. This board would have no legislative authority only a duty to consult with the Federation Council regarding the planetary leaderships' perspective regarding proposed laws.

The bureaucratic organs of the Federation would also be overseen by this body. Since the various bureaucracies often acted as a law unto themselves, this would introduce an element of control over the agencies supported by the Federation. Seeing as how this authority was currently limited to the Federal Committee, this proposal met with nearly universal approval. Once again the hardcore conservative elements rejected the idea.

Debate ensued after the favourable position was presented. Next the conservatives presented their reasons for rejecting the notion altogether. Their argument that the central government had functioned unchanged for over two hundred year was met with protests that the recent coup had shown the vulnerabilities and opportunities for abuse inherent in the existing system.

After the debate died down, Delane called for a vote of whether or not to lobby for the creation of the proposed advisory committee. The majority voted for the idea with overwhelming support. Even some of the conservatives changed their minds.

Next came a vote on whether or not to allow the Chandillans to fill that role. A unanimous vote said 'No'. With the die cast, Delane called an end to the forum. The various captives broke into small circles and enjoyed snacks obtained from the multiple replicators lining the walls. All spoke of the promise of rescue at the hands of the lone runabout that had appeared.

* * *

The lone runabout in question had landed. T'Kir had given Danan Kara's description of the Tower of Cooperation and the hostages' location within it. As the occupants of the runabout filed out, Danan was left behind to use the sensors to verify Kara's information.

Riker recognised the regal Cardassian woman that waited for them under the globe held aloft by the massive statues. With her were several guards of both pure blood and mixed origins. Seeing as how the statues depicted the unity of Cardassians and Bajorans, the hybrids came as no surprise. The fact that they held positions of authority bespoke of this society's overcoming the racial prejudices that lingered after the occupation of Bajor.

Riker confidently strode towards Garane. The rest of the SID team followed. The guards tensed upon seeing that their visitors wore sidearms. Ro wore the same blue utility jumpsuit that Riker and Grace wore. She also wore the Outbound Ventures' surplus Bajoran phaser strapped to her right leg. It was a weapon she had become familiar with during her tenure with the Militia.

Garane smiled genially as Riker reached her, "I am surprised that you come armed, Commander."

"Company policy." Riker replied by way of explanation, "No ship's officer may enter a potentially hazardous area without being armed."

"Or without company it appears." Garane said dryly.

"My ship's officers." Riker said and turned towards the assemblage, "May I present Ro Laren, the ship's Security Officer. Next, may I present Hannah Grace, the Flight Control Officer. This is T'Kir, the OPS Specialist. Behind her is Rab Daggit our Special Operations Specialist. Next to him is Radil Jenrya, the Tactical Specialist. Our esteemed Doctor rounds out the cast."

Amused, Garane asked, "Does the good Doctor have a name?"

Kort bowed at the waist, "I am Kort."

"You come as a breath of fresh air, Kort." Garane said happily, "Our dealings with Klingons have shown them to be short on courtesy. You belie that image."

"I am happy to, Madam." Kort said to Garane's delight.

"You must accompany me to my office." Garane announced, "We can discuss matters there."

"What matters do we have besides the disposition of our captain?" Riker asked.

"Why," Garane replied, "the disposition of our other guests from the Federation. That is why you are here after all."

Riker clenched his jaw and followed in Garane's wake as she strode off towards the entrance of the Tower.


	21. Chapter 21

Riker whistled as he stepped out into Garane's expansive office. The sun was setting and the sky was a brilliant inferno of red, orange, purple, and yellow fire. Riker approached the glass partition separating the office from the outside and took in the view. Ro and T'Kir came to stand beside him.

"Impressive." Ro opined.

"The wonder of the view never ceases to amaze me." Garane said as she sat atop of her desk.

"Why was it necessary to leave our friends behind on the ground floor with your guards?" T'Kir question was an accusation.

"Isn't it enough that I came with you unarmed and without protection while you wield all of the weapons?" Garane smirked.

"No," T'Kir retorted, "it isn't."

Riker stepped between the two women, "She doesn't mean any insult."

T'Kir's "Yes, I do." was in stereo with Garane's "Of course she does."

T'Kir glared at Garane and the Cardassian laughed, "She seems to be more disturbed by this situation than either of you. Why is this?"

Riker opened his mouth but T'Kir spoke first, "Brin Macen is my husband, you bitch, and I want him back."

Garane grew sombre, "That certainly changes things."

"So?" T'Kir planted her fists on her hips, "Are you gonna release him?"

Garane grew pensive for a moment and then shook her head, "No. No, I'm not."

"Why not?" T'Kir started forward but Ro restrained her.

"Let it go for now." Ro advised.

"Why won't you release Macen?" Riker demanded to know.

"I was holding on to Captain Macen to ascertain how much Starfleet knew about my world." Garane explained, "Your presence indicates that they could know everything. I gave my word that our various guests would not be used as hostages. However, Captain Macen is a prisoner, not a guest. I have no qualms about using him as a hostage."

"You bitch!" T'Kir shouted.

"You've already used that pejorative once before." Garane turned cold, "It was inappropriate before and I hardly qualify now. If you care for the Captain as much as you seem to you'll have no difficulty with obeying my stipulations."

"What are your terms?" Riker asked.

"Earlier you engaged one of our ships with the assistance of a second starship." Garane began, "That ship did not accompany you into our home system. Where is it?"

"I don't know." Riker replied somewhat truthfully.

"You don't know or you're unwilling to tell me?" Garane asked.

"Both." Riker answered.

"You're being very foolish, Commander." Garane warned, "I only need to receive word of how our proposal has been ratified and then I can release our guests to you. After you depart, a scoutship will rendezvous with you and bring you your captain. It is all very simple."

"And if we force the matter?" Riker enquired.

"Then I will be forced to execute Captain Macen. That is distasteful and barbaric but you will leave me little choice." Garane sadly replied.

"It seems I have no choice but to comply." Riker acquiesced.

"What?" T'Kir erupted.

"_Read_ into the situation, T'Kir." Riker urged, "You'll see I'm right."

T'Kir hesitated and then her eyes went wide with surprise, "Oh! I see."

"I thought you would." Riker said with satisfaction.

"Can we go now?" T'Kir wanted to know.

"I'll personally escort you to your ship." Garane offered.

"Thank you." Riker bowed his head slightly.

* * *

The assorted Federation leaders were still pressed up against the window. Their minders seemed to find all of this rather amusing. Korista Schrieber managed to squeeze in next to Drake Parsons.

"What's going on?" she managed to ask despite the crush of bodies pressing her against the window.

Parsons shook his head, "I don't know. They landed, got out of their runabout and traipsed off into the Tower. I haven't seen any movement since then."

"Maybe that's a good thing." Schrieber suggested hopefully.

"I doubt it." Parsons said bitterly, "Those things only hold two dozen people. We have thirty-eight 'delegates' here. It'd take two runabouts to carry us all."

"Can't they use the mother ship's transporters?" Schrieber asked.

"If they could use the transporters they would have done so by now." Parsons' bitterness grew more intense, "They must have a transport inhibitor field in place around the building."

"How do you know so much about Starfleet?" Schrieber wondered.

Parsons broke into a thin smile, "Starfleet Academy, class of `47."

"You were in Starfleet?" Schrieber couldn't hide her shock.

"For ten years." Parsons revealed.

"Why did you leave?" Schrieber shook her head, "No, more to the point, why haven't you used your experience in any of your campaigns?"

"Vote for the drop out junior officer?" Parsons cynically laughed, "I'd rather get my votes due to my ideology. It seems to have worked so far."

Schrieber grinned, "I'll admit it, I'm impressed."

"Thanks." Parsons said.

"Do you think you'd like to…" Schrieber trailed off as Parsons grew more intent staring out of the window. A furore grew amongst the crowd.

"They're leaving!" someone angrily shouted.

"But what about us?" another plaintively asked.

"Settle down." Delane's raised voice cut through the chatter, "Starfleet is negotiating for our release. Give them time to reach an accommodation."

The disgruntled crowd dispersed. Parsons and Schrieber joined Kirov and Wynter. Delane was ambushed by Grozik. Their discussion quickly heated up.

"I hope Astris is all right." Kirov wished to his companions.

"I'm sure she's simply with that amazon girlfriend of hers." Wynter casually dismissed his worries.

"She would have been here for the debate then." Kirov insisted, "The Proconsul was livid when she came in here last. It may have concerned Astris."

"It definitely concerned Captain Macen." Schrieber pointed out, "We haven't seen him since he was marched out of here."

"Something's going on but how can find out what it is?" Parsons asked, "They won't tell us anything."

"I hate to admit," Wynter sighed, "but I'm actually looking forward to Garane's return. At least we'll find out something then."

Murmurs of agreement met these words. The group huddled together and waited for the inevitable news. They could only pray that it was positive.

* * *

"We'll be deploying our scout craft in order to monitor you more closely." Garane informed Riker as the rest of the team boarded the runabout.

"That'll be fine." Riker replied with a smile, "We'll await word of when we can begin boarding the planetary leaders."

"Of course." Garane nodded, "Your path is going to be a difficult one today. May the Prophets watch over you."

Riker couldn't say why but her concern touched him. He decided that it was her sincerity that swayed him.

"May they be with you as well." He said.

"They are." She said brightly.

"Commander," Ro called out from the hatch, "we need to leave."

"Coming." Riker shouted back over his shoulder. Turning to Garane, he said, "I'm really sorry things have turned out this way."

"So am I." Garane admitted, "But hurry. Your Security Officer appears to be ready to drag you into the craft."

Riker grinned and headed towards the runabout. He sealed the hatch behind him as he boarded the ship. Ro looked fit to chew neutronuim.

"Did you have a nice visit?" she asked with syrupy sweetness, "Maybe you'd like to stay?"

"She doesn't seem to be a bad sort." Riker opined.

"They never do." Ro snorted and headed aft.

"Have you always been this cynical?" Riker wondered.

Ro stopped and turned to face him, "Yes, I have been."

Ro turned around and stormed off into the crew compartment. Riker rubbed the back of his head and muttered, "Explains a lot."

* * *

The _Corsair _docked inside of the _Obsidian_ and powered down. The flight back had been uneventful. They had, however, seen nearly two dozen scoutships in orbit around the _Obsidian_ when they approached. Called back to the cockpit, Riker had merely rubbed his chin and said, "Now life will get interesting."

Once the docking bay was repressurised, the _Corsair's _computer allowed the ship's hatch to open. Riker held an impromptu planning session in the shuttle bay.

"What did you find out, Lees?" he immediately asked.

"The information T'Kir gleaned from Kara Gena is accurate. I read the lifesigns of just over three dozen aliens, or at least non-Bajorans or Cardassians, clustered in one area. "

"So we can beam out the leaders en masse using the cargo transporter?" Riker asked with growing excitement.

"Yes." Danan nodded, "But I couldn't get a lock on Brin. We'll have to physically search for him using our tricorders to pick up his lifesigns."

"Ro," Riker turned to the Bajoran, "plan for an incursion. I want you to invade the tower and find Brin."

"Not a problem." Ro said, "I've already got a plan. I just need the team to suit up."

"All you can have is T'Kir, Grace, Danan and Daggit." Riker countered, "I need the rest here aboard the _Obsidian_."

"Wait a minute!" Ro and Radil said in unison. They blinked at each other in surprise and then Radil nodded for Ro to proceed.

"What's with giving me half the team?" Ro demanded.

"You only need half." Riker informed her, "It's a rescue op not an assault."

"It might turn into one." Ro growled.

"Think of this as a Maquis mission." Riker grinned, "Minimal support and resources."

"You're all heart." Ro snipped.

"How come I'm staying?" Radil wanted to know.

"When we beam up the Federation citizens, we may beam up some Chandillans as well. I want your Security team to be ready to deal with them." Riker answered.

"Abby can handle it." Radil protested.

"I need you to do it." Riker insisted, "Ro can handle the extraction without you."

Radil looked over at Ro. Ro patted her on the shoulder, "I've done more with less. Don't worry, we'll get him back."

Radil muttered some Bajoran obscenity under breath and stalked off. Kort looked at Riker and shrugged. As the Klingon walked away, Dracas confronted Riker.

"I cannot abandon the Captain in his time of need." Dracas declared.

"Macen needs you in Engineering far more than he needs you on the planet's surface." Riker assured him.

"I will not abandon…" Dracas began to repeat himself.

"Joachim," T'Kir interrupted, "listen to me. I've seen what Ro has in mind. It'll be okay. It doesn't need any more bodies to work. We'll be fine."

Dracas wavered, "Are you certain?"

"Of course I am." T'Kir boasted.

"In that case," Dracas addressed Riker, "I'll be at my post."

As Dracas disappeared Ro turned to T'Kir, "A bit prickly, isn't he?"

T'Kir shrugged, "He just has an overdeveloped sense of duty. You two should get on famously."

"I don't…" Ro started to protest but her objection died in her throat. She knew T'Kir probably knew her thoughts better than she did herself. She decided to change the subject, "All right. Let's get to the Armoury and gear up."

"What am I going to do during this 'extraction'?" Grace asked.

"I need you to ram a building." Ro replied.

"Oh. Okay." Grace said nonchalantly, "I'm good at that."

"Knowing Brin's style, I thought you would be." Ro chuckled.

"I'll leave you to it then." Riker said and started to walk away. As he reached the door he tapped his comm badge, "Telrik? Report to the cargo bay."

* * *

Garane entered the common room and all of the myriad conversations died. Smirking, she went to the head of the room. Once she was there, she motioned for her Federation 'guests' to take their seats.

"You've undoubtedly seen our new arrivals." Garane began as everyone settled down, "They are here to take you home."

There was spontaneous applause. Garane tried to stifle the crowd's enthusiasm, "Before you go, I must ask what your decision regarding my people's proposal was?"

All eyes turned towards Delane. He rose and tugged at his tunic. Clasping two of three of his hands behind his back, he spoke.

"While we agree with your proposal on its base merits we have made some modifications to the idea." Delane explained, "The advisory committee will be appointed by the planetary governments. It will represent their interests."

"It will not, however, be comprised of representatives of Chandilla." Delane firmly asserted, "The representatives shall be natives of the United Federation of Planets. Now, if you want to apply for UFP membership, the appropriate bodies will examine your application and process it accordingly."

Garane stared, open mouthed, at Delane. After a moment, she began to recover. Her eyes blazed and her mouth twisted in a sneer.

"You fools! You've seen what we can offer you and yet you still reject us." Garane hotly declared, "We offer our hand in friendship and you…"

"Kidnapping someone and holding them against their will does not comprise 'offering your hand in friendship'!" Grozik shouted. The crowd rallied behind Grozik.

Incensed, Garane moved into the midst of the assembled "delegates", "We can help you! We've accomplished things you've only dreamt of."

"Then Madam," Delane calmly replied, "I suggest you ally yourselves with our august collaboration or join it yourselves."

"This isn't over!" Garane vowed, "You'll still see reason."

Delane went to speak but found himself in the grip of an annular confinement beam. The room faded and reformed into a cargo bay. A burly Tellarite stood behind a transporter console. Flanking him were a dozen armed officers wearing Starfleet issued ablative armour.

The Chandillan minders went for the stunners on their belts and the _Obsidian's _Security detachment stunned them without a moment's hesitation. Radil approached Garane.

"Remember me?" the Bajoran wore a ruthless smile.

"Indeed I do." Garane held out her wrists so Radil could place binders on them, "You've made a foolish mistake. Your captain will die."

"No." Delane stepped up to her, "You've made the mistake. Threats and coercion never accomplish your long term goals."

"So what's to happen to me?" Garane asked Radil.

"Consider it a prisoner exchange." Radil said with satisfaction, "We'll trade you for Macen."

"My people will never bow to your demands." Garane promised her.

"Now you know where we stand." Delane gestured towards the assembled planetary leaders picking themselves off of the floor.

"Come on." Radil pulled Garane forward by her arm, "You can say 'hi' to your friend in our brig."

"What friend?" Garane asked in bewilderment.

"You'll see." Radil smirked as she led Garane out of the bay.

* * *

"They're aboard, Commander." Telrik reported.

"Thanks Telrik." Riker offered the Transporter Chief. Turning to the ship's Deltan yeoman, he began issuing instructions, "Kalista, begin showing our guests to empty quarters. We should have enough empty rooms to house them all."

"Yes sir." Kalista said with a bright smile, "I'll have them eating out of my hand."

Riker grinned, "I suspect that you will. Carry on."

As Kalista left, he noticed that Forger was shaking her head at Tactical, "What's wrong, Shannon?"

"It's those damned pheromones." Forger complained, "It just isn't natural."

"Actually it is." Riker's grin grew, "That's the problem."

"Whatever." Forger grumped, "Just give me something to shoot."

"Signal the _Defiant_ and raise the shields." Riker ordered, "There'll be all the shooting you can stand in a minute."

"Looking forward to it." Forger growled.

* * *

Hav Resan was bored. The Federation ship, aside from launching an auxiliary craft, had done nothing. Even the auxiliary craft had been recovered without incident.

"Sir," the Communications Officer spoke up, "the Federation ship just transmitted a subspace comm pulse."

"Where was it directed?" Resan asked for protocol's sake.

"At us." The Comm Officer reported.

"Us?" Resan was slightly intrigued, "Could you decipher the message?"

"It was one word." The Comm Officer said, "and before you ask, the word was 'Now'."

"Now?" Resan repeated. Idly turning to the Sensor Officer, he asked, "Scan, do you have anything?"

"No. I…wait! There's an energy surge off of our aft quarter."

"Raise shields!" Resan shouted, "Red alert!"

The _Defiant _finished decloaking and fired upon the _Truncuator's _engines. The point blank blast was devastating. The older Cardassian ship lost main and auxiliary power. They were down to their batteries and that was enough to keep their life support systems running. The _Defiant _moved off and headed into the cloud of scoutships firing upon the _Obsidian_.

* * *

"The _Defiant _has crippled the _Truncuator _and is moving in to support us." Forger reported as she targeted her next victim.

"Is our aft quarter secure?" Riker asked.

"For now." Forger answered.

"On my signal, drop the rear deflector shield." Riker ordered.

"It's your funeral." Forger muttered.

"Riker to Shuttle Bay."

"Shuttle Bay here."

"Is the _Corsair _ready for launch?"

"The bay's depressurised and the _Corsair's _on stand by."

Riker grinned, "Drop the rear shield."

"The aft shield is down." Forger reported.

"Tell them to launch, Chief." Riker happily said.

Two minutes of silence rolled by and then, "They're away."

"Raise the shield!" Riker ordered.

"Not a moment too soon." Forger reported, "Two Chandillan scouts were flanking us."

"Teach them the error of their ways." Riker suggested.

Forger's grin turned feral, "I'm on it."

"Happy hunting and good luck." He softly said to the spirits of the runabout's crew.


	22. Chapter 22

The _Corsair _vaulted out of the _Obsidian's _shuttle bay. Exiting at full impulse, Grace barely had time to get the ship's nose "up" before she collided with the _Truncuator_. Although Grace smoothly sailed the _Corsair _over the _Truncuator's _lifeless husk, she also garnered the attention of a Chandillan scoutship.

"Two items of note," Danan reported from the Science station, "First, that Cardassian ship is only powerless. She's still holding air and there's lifeforms aplenty to be found there."

"What's the second item?" Ro asked from Engineering.

"We're being pursued." Danan grimly answered.

"They're shooting at us!" Grace exclaimed. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw was set, "That really pisses me off."

Grace threw the runabout into a corkscrew roll. The Chandillan scout compensated for decreased accuracy by increasing the volume of fire. Grace levelled out and executed a "Crazy Ivan". The ship came around 180 degrees and Grace went on the offensive.

With Daggit standing at the ready at the Tactical console, Grace was relieved of any duty but flying the runabout. The inertial dampners, already strained by the Crazy Ivan, nearly failed as Grace twisted and looped around the Chandillan craft. Phaser strike after phaser strike barraged the scout with little successful return fire to accompany the damage being inflicted on the larger Chandillan vessel.

"Remember," Ro advised, "we don't have the ordnance rack attached so we only have two microtorpedoes."

"Which is why I've been saving them." Daggit replied as he effortlessly kept the targeting sensors locked on despite Grace's gyrations, "The only reason you deem it fit to remind me is that your command experience is limited to leading those lacking professional training."

Although it had been delivered in a toneless inflection, Ro still felt the verbal slap. She had helped Macen plan missions for the Angosian commando unit he'd been assigned to during the Dominion War. Macen had been the unit's Intelligence Officer and Ro had been their scout.

Truth be told, Daggit and the other Angosians had always creeped Ro out. Their very lack of passion during combat made them inhuman. They felt no fear, acknowledged no pain, and stopped for nothing until the mission was done. Even Vulcans weren't that relentless.

The worst part, in Ro's opinion, was that they were utterly merciless. Even the Jem'Hadar would give quarter unless specifically ordered not to. The Angosians fought until there was no one left to fight. She'd had nightmares after the war revolving around the commandos being pitted against a civilian population.

Ro had had nightmares since she was a child on Bajor. The brutal death of her father had haunted her for decades. Her continual need to find a father figure seemed to have ended with Elias Vaughn. He watched out for her without being intrusive. He was a true mentor, not an ersatz father. Given how turbulent his relationship with his own daughter had been, Ro was grateful that she didn't see him in the same way she had viewed Picard and Macius.

Picard still protected her career from afar and she knew he'd express an almost paternal affection for her if asked by a close associate. Vaughn had revealed pieces of just such a conversation between Picard and himself. Ro had long feared that she'd permanently scarred her relationship with Picard by the way she'd forsaken Starfleet and joined the Maquis. His gentle persuasion had convinced her to rejoin Starfleet when elements of the Bajoran Militia were integrated into Starfleet.

That day had been beautiful…and traumatic. Faced with her past, fully laid out and in her face, she'd been forced to make the most difficult decision of her life. She'd chosen the challenge of finally working _with_ Starfleet rather than playing a role in the Ro Laren show. She'd dived in headfirst and hadn't come up for air yet.

Her performance reviews of the past few years indicated that both Vaughn and Kira were appreciative of her efforts and her diligence. Seeing as how she'd started out as a Flight Control Officer and then trained with Starfleet's Advanced Tactical Training course's instructors before becoming branded as a terrorist, she wasn't certain that Starfleet had a niche for her to fill. _DS9's _Security Office had provided the perfect environment for her to flourish in.

Ro could easily step back and take a view of her few remaining friends. Macen and T'Kir remained steadfast constants. Bashir had talked her into participating with him on several of his holographic adventures. Ezri Dax had become the closest thing to a friend that she had. Of all of the people on the station, Quark was the closest.

The Ferengi's constant romantic overtures despite her steadfast insistence that they simply remain friends resonated with Ro. So much so that she had given him a few opportunities to reverse a few business decisions _before _she had to arrest him for them. It was a game they played well.

Despite having the occasional lover over the years, Ro had formed no permanent attachments to any individual. She was at an age where she was beginning to think differently about that. Loneliness had finally wormed its way into her heart and she wanted a change. Now she was faced with the daunting task of learning how to include someone into her life.

Faced with his own death, Aric Tulley had composed a confessional tome for Ro. In it he expressed his longstanding love for her. He knew that his decision to reconstitute the Maquis and reshape their operational strategies would forever separate them but it was a choice he had made. She had dedicated her life to the cause and so would he, he declared.

Ro had cried after watching his letter. That was a release she had denied herself since she was a child. Years of heartache poured themselves out in the course of the next several hours. Reaching out, she contacted Ezri Dax and had the former counsellor guide her through the experience. It was a true moment of growth for Ro and it had created a bond with Dax that had just recently started to take some interesting turns. Kira had voiced the opinion that the two women were fast becoming the next Bashir and O'Brien. Having known the Chief during her time on the _Enterprise_, Ro considered it to be a compliment.

* * *

The smell of ozone from overloaded circuitry brought Ro back to the present moment, "What was that?"

"Shields are taking a beating." T'Kir called out as she left the OPS station. She ran back into the crew compartment and began ripping deckplates up out of their housings. She manipulated some connection or another and put the plates back into place.

"Try it now!" T'Kir shouted.

"That did it." Daggit yelled back.

T'Kir scrambled back through the cockpit and jumped into her seat, "Now I'm going to show these _frinxers_ some manners."

Ro scornfully laughed, "Now there's a topic you know nothing about."

T'Kir stuck out her tongue and went back to work at her station. She furiously tapped at the OPS controls until she was rewarded with a long series of beeps and boops. Wearing a satisfied smile she leaned back in her chair and rested her head in her cradled hands. The runabout shook as the shields fended off another blast.

"Well?" Grace impatiently demanded.

"Wait for it." T'Kir counselled.

"They've stopped firing." Danan suddenly reported, "In fact, their entire power grid seems to be malfunctioning. Wait…their fusion reactor just spiked and their warp core just cycled down. The fusion reactor is scramming. They're descending on manoeuvring thrusters only."

Danan stared at the back of T'Kir's head, gaping in disbelief, "They've been neutralised."

"Told ya." T'Kir smugly retorted.

"What did you do," Ro wondered, "and what took you so damn long to do it?"

"Well, I reversed the EPS conduits so that the warp core and impulse reactors were being back fed their own power output _and _," T'Kir let the sentence hang in midair, "I had to wait until inspiration struck."

"Inspiration?" Ro asked in an irritated tone.

"I can do nothing until the muse strikes." T'Kir grinned.

"I'm going to strike your backside the next time you wait that long." Ro growled.

"Ruffian." T'Kir huffed.

"Grace, how long until we reach their central metropolis?" Ro asked.

"We've already passed it." Grace replied, "It'll be faster to do another complete orbit than to turn around."

"Do it." Ro ordered.

"And Commander, call me Hannah." Grace smiled.

Ro returned the smile despite herself. Macen had a good crew. It was a pleasure to be working with them. _Maybe I should get off the station more often_. she mused.

It was a tempting thought. Officially, her duties usually kept her bound to the station but she'd managed to venture forth now and then. Her subordinates were capable enough, as long as she prepped them she should be able to get away more often. That was the point of having subordinates.

Since the station oversaw the Bajoran sector, that extended her authority throughout the sector. There were several troubling cases that needed some hands on experience. Ro resolved to personally address those cases upon her return. She suddenly felt freer than she had for several years.

Ro studied T'Kir and wondered how the troubled Vulcan was _really _doing. T'Kir had achieved self improvement miracles over the last ten years but how permanent were they? Would all of her efforts be undone by the crisis of having Macen bound and apparently tortured? No one could answer these questions but T'Kir and, except for a few flippant remarks, she wasn't talking.

T'Kir double and triple checked her instruments. Nothing had changed over the last ten seconds. She took a deep breath and checked again. She knew Grace hadn't meant to overshoot the city but the waiting was the worst part.

She was surprised about how composed she felt. Macen was still unconscious and there was nothing she could do to rouse him. She burned bright with love and hope and she transmitted as much of that as she could through their rapport. She didn't know if it could help but Macen's efforts had aided her while she'd been tortured at the hands of Adrya Jeklan.

Of course, Adrya had only tortured her body. Macen's mind had been assaulted. There might very well be permanent damage. It could be Parva's case all over again.

_Cool it chickie!_ T'Kir admonished herself as her anxiety rose. _Stay focused and get him back. Deal with the aftershocks as they come._

Regulating her breathing, T'Kir ran yet another ship wide diagnostic. A few burnouts registered and she rerouted systems to compensate. The inertial dampner was wonky and threatening to crap out at any second. She engaged the secondary but knew it was a stopgap measure since it wasn't designed to compensate for Grace's hard driving manoeuvres.

She could cut the artificial gravity and that would ease the dampner's load. The problem was that everyone would have to strap in. That meant losing Daggit at Tactical. He'd have to retreat to the crew compartment. Plus, everyone would have to deal with the varying g-forces, something that was nearly unheard of in the modern Starfleet.

Ro, Danan, and T'Kir had experienced craft without inertial dampners. It guaranteed a physically exhausting ride but it was also wildly exciting. Grace and Daggit were the variables. Grace had trained in dampnerless craft at the Academy but that had been nearly ten years ago. She'd been spoilt ever since. Daggit was a complete unknown.

In the end, T'Kir merely hoped that the secondary would be sufficient to bolster the primary dampner. The real question now was how long it would take to traverse this accursed mudball. T'Kir's thoughts were a miasma of violent curses in dozens of languages. They were the vilest of the vile and all were appropriate to the situation.

T'Kir suddenly felt a flicker of consciousness from Macen. Elated and panicked at the same time, T'Kir spoke, "Hurry up! Brin's waking up. We have to get there now!"

"Hold on." Grace tried to assuage her friend's concerns, "Our ETA is ten minutes. We'll be there in time for whatever."

Barely mollified, T'Kir reached out with her mind, _Brin! Can you hear me?_

* * *

Macen's eyes fluttered and suddenly T'Kir's cry rocketed through his brain.

"Gah!" he cried out and then clenched his eyes and jaw shut, _Don't shout. Please! My head is killing me._

He was suddenly awash in her love and concern, _Are you all right? Is there any permanent damage?_

_Not that I know of. Take a look for yourself._ Macen opened himself up for her mental probing. He felt every corner of his mind being examined and searched.

After a moment, he felt a wave of relief cascading from her, _Whew! You seem fine._

Macen tapped into her recent memories, _You're awfully close. _

_We'll be there in ten minutes._ T'Kir assured him, _Just hang on._

_I'm not going anywhere._ Macen thought wryly, _But I have to go. The natives are stirring._

_I love you!_ T'Kir fervently thoughtcast.

_I never doubted it_. Macen replied, _See you in a few._

"What was that?" Makra asked upon hearing Macen's outcry.

"He's awake." Nelos stood up from the couch she'd been sitting on. Pulling her phaser free from her belt, she proceeded into the bedroom. Makra followed.

Macen was struggling to rise. Makra hurried over and helped pull him into a sitting position. She stuffed pillows behind his back so that he could sit comfortably. Nelos watched this with disgust.

"Isn't this cosy?" she sneered, "For Prophets' sake Nura, he's the enemy."

Makra glared at Nelos and snapped, "We've already tortured him. Aren't you satisfied?"

Nelos fell silent and Makra tended to Macen, "Can I get you anything?"

"Tea." Macen croaked.

Makra expectantly stared at Nelos, "_Oopla _tea with _oos _milk and two helpings of _sachri_."

Nelos looked indignant at first but then she threw her hands in the air and holstered her phaser. She stormed off to the replicator. She angrily yelled back, "What was that order?"

Makra repeated the order and Nelos growled the instructions to the replicator. She returned with the steaming mug and thrust it out towards Macen. He gratefully accepted it and took a cautious sip.

Nodding his thanks, he said, "I'm grateful."

"Stow it." Nelos irritably snapped, "I'd just as soon kill you myself."

Makra stood, "The Proconsul must be informed that he's awake."

She activated her comm and paged Garane. There was no reply. She left a message with the Proconsul's private answering service and then thought twice.

"Computer, state the location of Proconsul Illa Garane." She queried.

"Proconsul Illa Garane is in orbit above Chandilla." The computer's masculine voice replied.

"_What_?" Makra cried out. The computer repeated its determination.

Nelos pulled her phaser free and excitedly aimed it at Macen, "Ask him! He knows!"

Makra expectantly looked at Macen. Macen shrugged, "She's aboard my ship."

"How?" Makra stumbled over her words, "When?"

"I don't know exactly. Fairly recently." Macen supplied.

"How do you know?" Makra asked in wonder.

"I'm an El-Aurian." Was Macen's simple answer.

As Makra pondered that, Nelos thumbed up the power setting of her phaser, "Let's kill him."

"That's your solution for everything you sociopathic halfwit." Makra angrily shouted, "We can trade him for the Proconsul."

"Oh." _That _brought Nelos up short, "I never thought of that."

"I didn't think so." Makra said sadly. Her disappointment was palpable. Nelos grew silent.

Finally, she dared to speak, "What do we do then?"

"We need to open a channel to his ship and end this nightmare." Makra replied.

"But our plans…" Nelos weakly protested, "The New Order…"

"It's a failure." Makra rested her hand on Nelos' shoulder, "All of it has been a waste. We have to move forward and save what we can."

Makra looked to Macen and then back to Nelos, "Will you be safe to watch him?"

"I won't fail you." Nelos vowed.

Makra still had lingering doubts but she hid them from Nelos. "Of course you won't." she said encouragingly and left the bedroom.

As Makra used the comm terminal in the suite's office, Nelos studied Macen. Her estimation of his worth had grown immeasurably. She was suddenly concerned for his health.

"Can I get you anything?" she found herself asking, "Are you hungry?"

Macen mulled it over, "I _am _feeling a bit peckish. Could I have a serving of _hasperat_?"

Nelos hesitated. She still didn't trust Macen's condition. He could very well be lying in wait for her when she returned. Weighing the visible evidence against her fears, she opted to take the risk and left the room.

As she neared the replicator located in the main room she overheard Makra speaking to someone on the comm unit in the residence's office. Her CO was growing irritated as she stared at the viewer. Nelos angled for a better view. Staring back at Makra was a white haired and bearded human.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to have communications access with your Proconsul." Vaughn calmly informed Makra, "She is not aboard my vessel and I do not trust her to avoid ordering you to some act of desperation."

"That is not her way." Makra insisted, "I'm willing to let you speak with Captain Macen."

"We'll get to that when the appropriate time arrives." Vaughn assured her.

"Why can't we…" Makra was interrupted by the entire Tower shaking as though it had been struck by a ballistic object.

Makra was infuriated, "Damn you! We were negotiating in good faith."

"We'll see." Vaughn said coolly and signed off.

Nelos recovered her wits and sprinted towards the bedroom as the sound of a transporter effect permeated the flat. Makra spared one last angry glance at the viewer and then followed Nelos' headlong charge.

* * *

"Heads up." Danan called out, "They've scrambled atmospheric craft. They're pretty similar to Bajoran sub-impulse raiders."

"Rab, slave the weapons to my board and go find a seat and strap in." Grace began to outline, "The rest of you strap in as well. T'Kir, redirect the power from nonessential systems to the shields and the structural integrity field."

"How're you planning on dealing with the raiders?" Ro wondered.

"I'm flying straight through them." Determination laced every one of Grace's words.

Hearing the resolve in her voice, Ro cinched her crash harness tighter.

* * *

"We're receiving a signal from the surface." The OPS rating reported, "They're asking to speak with the commander of the attacking force."

Riker looked over to Forger and shared a conspiratorial smile, "Signal Commander Vaughn and inform him that we're just the hired help. This is his show."

The OPS rating sighed and relayed the message.

* * *

The _Corsair _shuddered. Grace wore a thin, grim smile, "Now we're having fun."

"Y'do know that we're almost to the bloody tower?" T'Kir asked.

"So?" Grace replied.

"Y'ever think about slowing down?" T'Kir wondered.

"Nah." Grace grinned, "We'll be fine."

"Y'sure?" T'Kir enquired more urgently.

"Relax." Grace wore a beatific smile, "The penthouse of the tower is enclosed in glass not transparent aluminium. We'll go through it without scratching the paint on the hull."

"Y'sure?" T'Kir repeated.

Grace wore a bashful smile and hunkered her head down between her raised shoulders, "Mostly."

"Don't go adorable on me, just fly the damn ship." T'Kir returned her focus to the forward view. The tower was a mere five kilometres away…and the runabout was on a suicide course for it. "Holy _shuk_!" T'Kir yelled as the _Corsair_ closed the distance.

Grace had fired the braking thrusters and thrown the main impulse thrusters into reverse upon reaching the five kilometre mark. The runabout careened into Garane's office at a speed of barely 100 kph. The warp nacelles scraped across the floor as the enclosure shattered. Glass rained down atop the runabout. As predicted, the ship suffered no damage although the paint _was _scratched.

The crew quickly shed their crash harnesses. Danan redirected her sensor array and began sweeping the lower floors. Daggit strode into the cockpit wielding a phaser rifle and a pump action grenade launcher strapped to his leg.

"I found him!" Danan suddenly exclaimed in excitement.

"How?" T'Kir inquired, "You said you couldn't detect his life signs earlier."

"I couldn't." Danan confirmed, "But he shows up like a beacon now."

"Lock those coordinates into the transporter." Ro ordered, "Daggit, secure this level. T'Kir, you're with me."

T'Kir eagerly followed Ro to the transporter pads. Ro looked to Danan and said, "Energise."

* * *

Nelos reached the bedroom to find two raven haired women standing at the foot of the bed. One, a Bajoran, had her shoulder length hair combed back, away from her face. The Vulcan, Nelos presumed she was a Vulcan because of the lack of the vestigial brow ridge common to most Romulans, wore her hair pulled back into a loose tail. Both had their phasers drawn and at the ready.

Nelos came to a halt and her hand hovered over her own phaser's grip. The Vulcan, if that's what she was, smiled, "Give me a reason."

Nelos' hand darted towards her phaser and T'Kir shot her. Nelos crumpled and fell to the floor as Makra arrived. She crouched and checked Nelos' vitals. Relieved that she was still alive, she rose to her full height.

"I've got her." Ro said, "Check on Brin."

T'Kir sat beside Macen's still form. She fearfully reached out and gently shook his shoulder. His eyes fluttered and he came to. He looked embarrassed.

"Sorry." He said bashfully, "I fell asleep."

T'Kir showered him with kisses. She finally stopped and gasped for air, "I'll forgive you…this time."

"Lucky me." Macen weakly grinned.

Ro kept her focus on Makra but asked, "Are you going to live?"

"Looks that way." Macen managed to laugh.

"Good." Her attention to Makra never wavered, "Now for you. Lift that phaser out of its holster with two fingers."

Makra complied and Ro tensed up, "Easy."

Makra threw the offending weapon across the room, "Satisfied?"

"Barely." Ro replied.

"You should be glad that Brin regards you as a potential friend," T'Kir's eyes lased holes through Makra's skull, "otherwise I'd kill you."

Makra tasted the sincerity in those words and remained silent. T'Kir rose from Macen's side, "Your friend may not be so lucky."

T'Kir," Macen shifted and put his feet on the floor, "We need to set an example."

"It'll be an example." T'Kir growled.

"It's unnecessary and wasteful." Macen gathered his strength, "Her fate should be left to the Chandillans."

"And if they do nothing?" T'Kir wanted to know.

"That's their mistake to make not ours." Macen said and rose to his feet. T'Kir leapt to his side and caught him as he started to fall. He responded with a grateful smile and then straightened himself out and stood on his own. T'Kir hovered nearby to respond within seconds.

"Call off your fighters outside." Ro demanded, "If we don't make it back to our ship you won't see your Proconsul again until after you hammer out an extradition treaty with the Federation."

"You're not taking me prisoner?" Makra asked in confusion.

"We don't want the prisoners we already have." Ro informed her, "Contact Commander Vaughn. He'll arrange the safe return of your Proconsul and the others that were beamed aboard _if _we make it back in one piece."

"I'll call off the Militia." Makra promised, "Just return our leader to us."

"Natch." T'Kir remarked and tapped her comm badge, "T'Kir to Danan."

"Go ahead."

"Three to beam up, this location." T'Kir instructed. A moment later they dissolved into a shimmer of energy. Makra watched the display. After the Federation personnel were gone, she returned to the office space. Activating the comm console, she contacted Militia Command. Outlining the Proconsul's predicament, she ordered the fighters off. The Militia commander hurried to obey.

Makra had much to think about. Macen had argued for clemency and tolerance even after being tortured. He defended her planet's sovereignty despite its current vulnerability. She wasn't certain that she would have been as magnanimous in return. Surely the Federation had more to offer than originally supposed. Perhaps an alliance based upon mutual respect would be better than a union born out of authoritarianism.

_Maybe_. She reiterated to herself. Rising from the desk, she sought out a medkit with whish to rouse Nelos. Maybe she could convince her younger associate of the necessary change of plans. _Or maybe not_. Makra thought ruefully as she remembered Nelos' inherent stubbornness.


	23. Chapter 23

Macen, Ro and T'Kir rematerialised inside of the _Corsair_. Macen wavered and T'Kir braced him. Danan came out of her seat,

"Brin?" she said with alarm, "My God! What's wrong?"

Ro pushed past the Trill. Reaching the flight controls, she leaned over to speak with Grace as Danan assisted T'Kir in getting Macen to the crew compartment.

"Where's Daggit?"

Grace nudged her chin towards the main hatch, "He's outside. He's already repulsed a security team."

Ro tapped her comm badge, "Ro to Daggit."

"Daggit here." came the terse reply.

"Climb aboard soldier." Ro wore a wry grin, "We're evacuating."

"Roger. Out."

Ro wore a disgruntled expression as she spoke, "Chatty isn't he?"

"You get used to it." Grace replied as she took her systems off stand-by.

"No thanks." Ro said as she stood behind Grace, "I wonder how they're doing with Brin?"

"Why don't you check on him?" Grace suggested, "Nothings going to happen here until Rab gets back inside."

"I think I will." Ro offered a grateful smile as she proceeded aft.

Ro found Danan standing by as T'Kir attempted to fasten Macen's crash harness. Macen slapped her hand.

"I can do it." He determinedly declared. To emphasise his point he secured the straps himself in short order.

"Never let them see you down and out." Ro laughed, "A commanding officer's holy mantra."

"Exactly!" Macen excitedly pointed at Ro, "Tell them!"

T'Kir bent over and kissed Macen's cheek, "I love ya anyway you stubborn jackass."

"What I don't get is why I couldn't detect your biometrics the first time we came down and yet we were suddenly able to spot you this time `round." Danan wondered.

"Dimensional dissonance." Macen supplied.

"Say what?" Danan retorted.

"Exactly." Ro agreed, "What she said."

"Their machine almost literally tore my mind apart." Macen explained, "As a result, my footing in this reality became tenuous. I literally "faded" in and out of this existence."

"And yet your body never disappeared." Ro pointed out, "Or at least your captors weren't aware of it."

"This body is a shell." Macen replied, "It is the vessel that holds the true essence. It is that essence that leaves this plane when the body expires."

"So, you're touting life after death?" Ro asked.

Macen shook his head, "I'm touting the existence of other planes of reality. El-Aurians have access to these realms. I don't know about other species. Sorry."

T'Kir grinned, "Don't forget, I went to the Nexus with you after we died. There's gotta be hope for us lesser species as well."

"Yeah," Macen grinned back, "that was rather unexpected."

Ro's comm badge chirped and she tapped it. Grace's voice came through, "I hate to be a joy stealer but Rab's aboard and we need to go."

The female trio left Macen and passed Daggit as he was trying to leave the _Corsair's _armoury. Daggit found a seat by Macen and strapped himself in. The women retook their previous stations and Grace activated the antigravs.

The runabout rose into the air just as three new security officers exited the lift. Grace backed the ship out of the framework that used to house the glass enclosure. Bringing the _Corsair_ about, she engaged the thrusters and started to climb. The local militia's fighters paced the miniature starship but did not fire. Grace engaged the engines and climbed out of the atmosphere.

"We're leaving atmo." Grace announced.

"What a mess." T'Kir opined, looking at the scattered ships and debris in orbit above Chandilla. Standing vigil over the carcasses were the _Obsidian_ and the _Defiant_. Both ships' tractor beams were busy pulling crippled ships into higher orbits.

Grace whistled, "They didn't mess around."

"They had no reason to." Ro said clinically, "Even though the Chandillan ships had inferior weaponry their sheer numbers made them a threat."

Grace hailed the _Obsidian's _Bay Chief and started the ball rolling for a landing procedure. Twenty minutes later they were safely inside the shuttlebay and it was repressurising. When the telltales lit up, indicating that there was a breathable atmosphere outside, Grace popped the main hatch. The outer doors to the bay opened and Kort pushed his way in trailed by a medical team.

Grace was the first to exit the runabout. She waved her hands in front of Kort, "Whoa big boy. The Captain's been through hell but he's coming out on his own feet. Got it?"

Kort muttered something in Klingon that Grace suspected that highly educated doctors weren't supposed to know. Daggit came out next. Ro followed after him. Danan preceded T'Kir and T'Kir helped steady Macen as he stepped down.

Kort was on the verge of having a fit, "Captain!"

"At ease, Kort." Macen said as he stood still to catch his breath.

"You're hurt." Kort belaboured the obvious.

"Tell him somethin' he doesn't know." T'Kir wisecracked.

"You need to come to Sickbay." Kort insisted.

Macen nodded, "And I will, _after _I've had a shower, a change of clothes and a meal."

"It can't wait." Kort grew more insistent, "I can relieve you of duty and compel you to come to Sickbay."

"Relieve me of what duty?" Macen laughed, "Riker's in charge, not me."

"This is intolerable!" the Klingon bellowed, "I am the CMO of this ship. I must be respected."

"Kort," Macen was far more conciliatory, "Do you really want me to go to Sickbay first?"

"Yes." All of Kort's frustration was focused into one word.

Macen shrugged, "Fine. I'll come."

Kort motioned for his assistants to deploy the stretcher. Macen waved his hands, "I'll come but it'll be on foot."

Knowing when to concede, Kort deflated a little, "That will be fine. After you, Captain."

"Thank you." Macen grinned and then departed with an entourage in his wake.

* * *

Radil depressed the door chime again and waited. The door slid aside and Astris was revealed standing in the threshold in Starfleet regulation undergarments. Radil smirked and Astris grew irritated.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"I have a surprise for you." Radil stepped aside to reveal Kara and another Security officer. Kara's wrists were restrained and she looked subdued but Astris' heart leapt with joy.

"Why are you releasing her?" Astris had to know.

"I'm not." Radil said, "The brig is full of people that would like to see her dead. All of the spare quarters are occupied and I need somewhere to put her. I didn't think you'd mind sharing your bed."

"Of course not." Astris immediately blurted and then she stopped for a second, "How is this going to work?"

"I've already set the security levels on your replicator." Radil explained, "There'll be a guard posted outside of your door twenty-four hours a day. You'll be free to move about but she's confined to quarters."

Astris was about to protest but Radil cut her off, "She's already agreed to follow the rules. She'll be left in your custody. Can you handle that?"

Astris' eyes narrowed at the challenge, "Of course I can."

Radil unlocked Kara's wrists and hung the binders on her belt, "Then she's all yours."

Kara rubbed her wrists and then almost toppled over as Astris rushed into her arms. Kara lit up. Her radiant smile warmed the corridor. Astris leaned back and looked up at Kara.

"What does she mean people want to kill you?" Astris asked.

"Garane is aboard as well as Jern Gelt and other orderlies." Kara wore a sad smile, "They have not taken my recent actions very well."

"Ladies," Radil interrupted, "if you'd be so kind as to enter your quarters?"

"Of course." Astris said and she ushered Kara in and stepped in behind her, "Will there be anything else?"

"Owens here will be on duty for the next shift." Radil introduced the strapping farm boy turned security agent, "Let him know if you need anything."

"We will." Astris promised, "Good night."

The door closed and Radil grinned, "I think they're about to have pleasant dreams."

Owens chuckled, "I think you've called it, Chief."

"I'll have a field chair, a basket of sandwiches, and a thermos of coffee brought up." Radil promised, "Need anything else?"

"Just a little company now and again." Owens said plaintively.

"I'll put you down as a stop on tonight's patrol route." Radil chuckled.

"Thanks." Owens pulled a padd out of his pocket and went to work writing something. Radil smiled and strode off. She still had a few stops to make and she was looking forward to them. _Or at least _most _of them. _Radil ruefully admitted to herself.

* * *

"Are we done yet?" Macen enquired as he twisted his legs off of the biobed and assumed a seated position. An exasperated Tessa gave Kort an imploring look. Kort moved back to Macen's position. He pulled Macen's legs back onto the table and then pushed his torso back down to a prone position.

"Kort," Macen tried to reassure his doctor, "I'm fine."

"I'll be the judge of that." Kort growled.

Macen rolled his eyes and relaxed for a moment. He was swiftly regaining his strength and it would soon be more difficult to keep him here. Kort studied some readings at the biobed's head and then picked up a medical tricorder and reviewed its last scan.

Frowning, Kort finally grumbled, "I can't find anything wrong with you."

"Good." Macen said joyously and started to rise from the bed, "Then I can leave."

Kort placed his hand in Macen's chest and stopped his CO from moving, "I may not know _what _happened to you but I know _something _occurred. You're staying until I can fathom what that was."

Macen moved Kort's hand away, "Kort, you don't have the equipment to pick up on what happened to me. The Federation science doesn't exist which could account for my recent malady. El-Aurian science could but it's fairly nonexistent now. Cut your losses and let me go to my quarters."

Kort and Tessa exchanged glances. Finally, Kort heaved a heavy sigh, "You're discharged _but_ no heavy exertions for at least twenty-four hours."

"There goes my fun." T'Kir pouted from across the room.

"We'll make do." Macen winked, "I promise."

T'Kir clapped her hands, "Ohhh, I _like_ those kinds of promises. It inspires creativity."

At that moment, the Sickbay doors opened and Radil barged in, "If you think this was bad, just wait until the next time you two go gallivanting around without Rab and I. Me chief of security. You trouble magnet. You no go running off without me no more."

The first was delivered with a lot of finger wagging. The end was punctuated with a pat on the head. Macen looked amused, contrite, but amused.

"Okay," he relented, "you win. Next time we'll stick together if it's your recommendation to do so."

"What?" a stunned Radil asked, "Who are you and what the hell did you do with my boss?"

"Seriously," Macen pressed on, "T'Kir and I acted foolishly."

"Speak for yourself buster." T'Kir quipped.

"_We_ recklessly ignored your advice and it was proven to be a painful mistake." Macen shot T'Kir a _So there!_ Look. She blew him a raspberry. Radil looked confused and uncertain.

"This is weird." She lamented.

Macen shrugged, "Near death experiences tend to make me a little more cautious."

"You never just agree." Radil weakly protested, "They toyed with your brain or something."

"Truer words have never been spoken." Macen replied.

The Sickbay doors opened again and this time Ro and Danan strode in.

"Is he going to live?" Ro asked.

"Yes, but I don't know why." Kort unhappily answered, "He won't tell me what they did to him."

Ro wore a sly grin, "They tried to use a mind scanner didn't they?"

Macen nodded and Ro continued, "And it didn't work, did it?"

Macen nodded and Ro victoriously turned to Danan, "That's ten strips of latinum you owe me."

"Damn." Danan muttered and then she turned on Macen, "Couldn't you have lied?"

Macen shook his head, "If I'd known about the wager I _might _have thrown it toward you. As it was, candour was the only option."

Danan rolled her eyes, "You're a spy Brin. Lying is what you do."

"Only when absolutely necessary." Macen said primly.

"Then tell her about our sealed orders from Starfleet when we infiltrated the Maquis." Danan challenged.

"That's classified." Macen said in a low voice.

"Let me guess," Ro interjected, "You were to assist the Maquis in destabilising Cardassian interests in the Zone. This would entail sabotaging key Cardassian projects and destroying strategically important bases all while redirecting patrol ships off the border."

"Yeah." Danan blinked in surprise, "How did you know?"

Ro shrugged, "One of Alynna Nechayev's favourite gambits. You should've seen my sealed orders."

There was a moment of silence and then Danan returned her focus to the wager, "What are you going to do with ten strips of latinum? Bajor has joined the Federation's cashless economy."

Ro grinned, "But Quark hasn't. I can get a few good meals and some drinks out of those winnings."

Danan gave up. Looking up towards the ceiling, she conceded, "Fine. I'll arrange a funds transfer."

Ro's grin blossomed into a smile, "I'll give you my account number when you're ready."

"Can I get out of here?" Macen lamented.

Kort sighed and his shoulders sagged, "Since I can find nothing wrong with you except for fatigue, you may go. Rest for at least the next twelve hours."

Macen slid off of the biobed, "I will."

The Sickbay doors opened, revealing Riker and Vaughn. Vaughn warmly smiled upon seeing Macen, "I knew they couldn't keep you down."

Macen grinned, "It's good to see you too, Elias."

Vaughn came to stand before Macen. T'Kir slid in close to her husband and leaned into him as his arm came around her waist. Vaughn's smile broadened.

"Reminds me of the good old days." Vaughn chuckled, "Only I was the married man and you were the widower."

Macen shook his head, "It turns out I wasn't a widower after all. Arinea was still alive."

"Was?" Vaughn pointedly asked.

"I'll tell you the story over snacks and coffee." Macen offered. Turning to Riker, Macen asked, "Tom, are you free?"

"I am now." Riker laughed, "I've turned over the reins to our resident bundle of boundless energy."

"Shannon is a wonder, isn't she?" Macen remarked, "She certainly has blossomed over the last two years."

"And I'll thank whatever deity that's responsible." Riker grinned, "She's indispensable."

"I think you guys push her too hard." T'Kir opined, "She hardly ever sleeps. How does she do it?"

"I don't know." Riker admitted, "I'm just grateful for it."

"Officer Forger needs to come in for her quarterly physical." Tessa announced, "If one of you could order her to Sickbay…"

Kort cleared his throat, "Tessa, that physical was completed three months ago. You performed it yourself."

Tessa was perplexed, "I did? I don't remember."

Kort shrugged, "It happens to everyone."

"Not to me." Tessa asserted, "The computer has allocated me a terraquad of professional memory space. That doesn't include my personal memory buffer."

"I'll run a review of your systems once we're back in our home port." T'Kir promised.

"Thank you." This alleviated Tessa's fears.

The doors opened once more and Grace stepped into the room. "Whoa!" she exclaimed, "Quite the crowd. I haven't seen Sickbay this crowded since Parva got hurt."

"We're headed to the Team Room." T'Kir informed her, "Wanna come?"

"That was my next stop." Grace laughed, "I'm starving."

"Then let's go." Macen ordered and the milling crowd made their way out of Sickbay. Left behind, Kort cast a worried eye over Tessa. The EMH had been developing as an individual at a remarkable rate. He was worried that somehow her program had been corrupted and that she would have to be taken back to her default settings. That would be an eternal shame. Kort shook his head and, handing over the Sickbay to Tessa, left.


	24. Chapter 24

Vaughn set his mug down. It was his third cup of coffee. Although Vaughn portrayed a façade of youthful exuberance, his age wrought fatigue was showing to those that knew him. Macen knew T'Kir had picked up on it. Ro was emanating quiet concern as well.

Vaughn noted his friends' subtle reactions and kept his own counsel. Frowning, he changed the topic from tales of previous exploits to the more immediate past, "I've been receiving calls from someone named Makra. She says you made a deal to exchange Brin for Proconsul Garane. Is this true?"

Ro nodded, "That's the gist of it. We have no authority to hold any Chandillans. We aren't at war with them and we've no extradition treaties in place."

Vaughn turned to Riker, "But you're planning on holding Kara Gena?"

Riker shifted in his seat, "Kara surrendered to us as a Federation citizen. She's a legally naturalised citizen of Bajor. Besides, I don't think she'd get a warm homecoming on Chandilla. We could grant her asylum and sort out the legal standings later."

"Agreed." Vaughn lifted his mug and took another swallow of coffee, "You're getting pretty adept at this Tom. Are you sure you don't want your own command?"

Macen neutrally observed Riker as Tom fielded the question, "Outbound Ventures' commands are fairly routine. I'd miss the excitement of working with the SID."

Vaughn chuckled as he turned to Macen, "Man loves his headaches."

There were a table full of rueful smiles at that observation. Vaughn's comm badge sounded and he put his mug down with a sigh.

"Vaughn here." came the weary reply.

"It's Captain Makra again." Dax reported.

Vaughn closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Right on schedule. Patch her through, Lieutenant."

"Commander?" came Makra's hesitant query a moment later.

"I'm here, Captain." Vaughn was all poise and authority, "How can I assist you?"

"When will you be releasing the Proconsul and her staff?"

Macen flashed Vaughn five fingers three times. Vaughn nodded, "Will fifteen minutes be good for you?"

"That would be excellent." Makra's happiness radiated over the circuit.

"We'll transport them to their original coordinates." Vaughn informed her.

"I'll be awaiting them. Makra out."

Macen rose, "I'll just have enough time to change clothes and greet Proconsul Garane."

Vaughn's eyebrows rose, "Now this should be an interesting conversation."

"You're welcome to observe it." Macen offered, "That way Amanda can't accuse me of trying to start an interstellar incident after this is over."

Vaughn released a merry chuckle, "I'm afraid she won't see me as an impartial witness."

"She respects your professional judgement, Elias." Macen countered, "We both know that."

Vaughn held up his hands, "I surrender already. I'll see you in the brig in ten minutes."

"Tom," Macen faced Riker, "will you alert Jenrya to the prisoner release?"

"Be happy to," Riker grinned, "_but_ I'm not leaving here until I get a full meal."

"Fair enough." Macen conceded, "I'll be in my quarters taking a shower if anyone needs me during the next ten minutes."

"No problem." Riker magnanimously allowed.

"This should be interesting." Ro opined, "I think I'll tag along as well."

"It's just a shower, Laren." T'Kir teased.

Ro lifted her eyes imploringly to the ceiling, "Give me strength."

Macen rose and tugged at T'Kir's arm, "Come along dear. I'm afraid poor Laren has been harassed enough."

"But I was just starting to have fun." T'Kir whined.

"Behave and I'll let you shower with me." Macen offered.

"I won't behave then but I will now." T'Kir declared, "Hurry up, buster."

After the couple left, Ro wore a bemused grin, "I stand corrected. The shower could be interesting too."

"I don't want to know." Riker retorted.

Ro's grin turned wicked. With an evil gleam in her eye, she said, "I owe you the story of what happened when your twin and I lost our memories. We had no idea who we were or what our relationship was, even though we'd just had an argument right before the scan wave robbed us of our past."

Riker looked dubious and Ro proceeded with impish glee, "Anyway, we were assessing the crew's situation and things started to get interesting…"

* * *

"Hey!" Macen jumped as T'Kir pinched his bare arse.

"Gotcha!" T'Kir giggled with delight.

Macen stepped out of the shower cubicle and went to their shared closet. He pulled an olive Henley off of its hanger. He draped the shirt on the bed. Next, he went to his dresser and pulled out a pair of boxers and a pair of socks. A pair of pants emerged out of the lowest drawer.

T'Kir bounded out of the shower, "Don't get dressed. I'm feeling frisky."

"Sorry." Macen was rueful, "I have a date with Garane, and to be honest, I'm still wiped out."

"What I have in mind won't require you to move…_much_." T'Kir said with impish glee.

Having received a telepathic image of what she was asking for, Macen smiled, "All right. I can go along with that."

"Just don't talk too much." T'Kir warned, "I don't want you wearing yourself out."

Knowing that she was concerned with a singular muscle, he shook his head and got dressed. Once he was clothed, he proceeded to the safe in the wall. Having been scanned and his biometrics approved, he opened the unit and removed his spare holster. Strapping it on, he turned to the phaser sitting within the safe's confines.

Macen lifted the pistol and hefted its weight. Seeing that its balance was right, he sighted the opposite wall. T'Kir paused and proudly smiled.

"Rab and Joachim specifically chose that phaser for you." She revealed, "Joachim added upgraded targeting sensors and an enhanced gyroscope."

Macen visually inspected the weapon one last time then slid into place in its holster.

"Gonna name this one?" T'Kir asked with a bemused expression.

"I don't think so." Macen replied, "It was kind of childish."

"I thought it was cute." T'Kir countered.

"Great." Macen muttered, "Are you almost done?"

T'Kir finished pulling on her boots and fastening them closed. She rose and removed her gunbelt from the bed and strapped it on.

"Ready." She said perkily.

"Let's roll." Macen said and headed for the door. He paused at the door and let T'Kir catch up. She reached, took hold of his neck, and kissed him on the cheek.

Macen smiled, "That was sweet. Rather sedate for you, but sweet."

T'Kir held her forefinger under her chin and adopted a sugary smile. Coquettishly, she said, "I'm taking sweet out for a test drive."

"Just be yourself." Macen implored, "That's all I ask."

"Hey buddy, I'm naturally sweet." T'Kir declared.

"I bow before your infinite wisdom." Macen grinned, "Can we go now?"

"Lead on, kind sir." T'Kir said with aplomb and a twirl of her hand, "Lead on."

* * *

Macen entered the brig only to find Ro, Vaughn, Radil and Collins already there. Garane stood just behind the force screen and looked irritated. Her eyes widened and her features softened when she recognised Macen. Her haughty expression swiftly returned.

"Am I to be kept here for your amusement, Captain?" Garane enquired.

"Are you asking if you'll be tortured?" Macen calmly asked.

Doubt clouded Garane's eyes and Macen chose to alleviate her concerns, "You're being returned to your people, Proconsul. You may have chosen a course which may have constitutes an act of war but the Federation is declining the invitation to engage in hostilities."

"It appears they already have." Garane countered, "How else can you explain the presence of Starfleet in our solar system and the destruction of our navy?"

"If Starfleet had really declared war on you, you wouldn't be in a position to argue semantics." Macen advised her, "The Federation is releasing you. However, there is a certain matter between us. Since I'm only a contract employee of Starfleet, I can pursue my grievance as a private citizen. You're a prisoner on my ship. As previously stated, Starfleet has released all interest in you but you're still a prisoner aboard my ship."

Macen coldly stared into Garane's eyes, "Do you want to learn the price of your freedom?"

Garane hesitated and then nodded, "Yes. Yes, I do."

"You'll dismantle your mind scanner and destroy any and all records of how to build one." Macen stated, "That's the condition of your release."

Garane was dumbfounded, "That's it?"

"One condition." Macen stressed the point.

"And if I don't comply?" Garane cocked her head to one side.

"I'll be back someday." Macen promised, "If that machine is still intact when I get here, I'll implement General Order 24."

"And that is?" Garane wondered.

"A directive to destroy a world." Macen answered.

"That's heinous!" Garane gasped.

"So's that machine." Macen said tightly, "Get rid of it."

Garane stepped back. She studied Macen, reappraising him. Having gauged whether or not he would carry out his threat, she nodded.

"Very well." She relented, "It will be destroyed."

Macen deactivated the forcefield. Turning to Radil, he said, "Let them all out Radil. Escort them to the transporter and have Telrik return them to the site where he acquired them."

"You got it." Radil nodded to Collins. Collins deactivated the remaining two forcefields. The two Security officers kept their hands on their pistols as they ushered the Chandillans out of the room. The rest of the available gamma shift security detail was waiting for them in the corridor. The Chandillans moved along quietly.

Vaughn turned to Macen, "I think she bought your bluff."

Macen's eyes were cold and his expression ruthless as he asked, "Who was bluffing?"

"Brin," Vaughn's voice had a hint of desperation in it, "you can't be serious. The last time GO 24 was invoked was during the _Vanguard_ mission. No one has dared use it since."

"Then it's a good thing I won't have to, isn't it?" Macen nonchalantly asked. That being said, he departed. T'Kir left on his heels. Vaughn and Ro exchanged nervous glances.

"My God," Vaughn breathed, "what have we created?"

"There's a dangerous side to him struggling to get out." Ro observed, "I don't want to be in his way if it ever gets loose."

Vaughn was unsettled, "Unfortunately, I know who they'd call in to stop him. We'd have to contain him or kill him."

"I've had a few sleepless nights worrying about that possibility." Ro admitted.

"I think it's time I had an overdue chat with Nechayev and Drake." Vaughn decided.

"Good luck with that." Ro grimaced, "What I'm most afraid of is that our best hope of keeping him safe and sane rests with T'Kir."

"It can't be that bad." Vaughn said, "She's a bit eccentric and…"

"And every marble she has is rolling around loose in her head." Ro finished for him, "Her telepathy may be more controlled now but she still suffered a lot of psychic trauma during her time with the Maquis. That kind of mental scarring just doesn't go away because you can suddenly keep the voices in the night at bay."

Vaughn sobered, "I see your point. So what do we do?"

Ro shrugged, "I suggest you pray if you believe in a higher power. Other than that, we keep our eyes open and hope for the best."

"Not much of a plan." Vaughn muttered.

"The best that we have, Commander." Ro said fatalistically.

Vaughn sighed, "I'd better get back to the _Defiant_. Coming?"

Ro shook her head, "I rode in with the _Obsidian_ crew. I'll ride back the same way."

"Suit yourself." Vaughn offered a wan smile, "Keep an eye on our friend."

"I will." Ro promised, "See you back on _DS9_."

"It's a date." Vaughn grinned and winked.

Ro gaped as Vaughn left. Standing alone, she tried to reconcile what had just happened with her usual perception of Elias Vaughn. Vaughn had always been friendly…friendly but professional. He'd never been playful before.

Ro knew she'd just graduated to an elite cadre. Vaughn had chosen her to be a friend. She felt deeply honoured and touched. Ro had never seen herself as being special but she was held in high regard by some of the greatest heroes in the Federation. Shaking her head she promised herself that she would prove herself worthy of Vaughn's unspoken compliment.

* * *

Macen called Kalista and had the Deltan gather the assembled planetary leaders in the Team Room. Despite being designed to seat half of the _Obsidian's _crew at a time, it still fell woefully short of accommodating the over three dozen guests. Over a dozen passengers were left standing.

Macen called everyone to order, "As you may or may not recall I'm Brin Macen. I'm the captain of the _Obsidian_, the ship you are now on. With me is Commander Elias Vaughn. The Commander is the senior Starfleet officer in this area."

"Why isn't anyone aboard except for him in Starfleet uniform?" Grozik called out, "Is this a Starfleet ship or isn't it?"

"No." Macen answered, "This isn't a Starfleet vessel. The _Obsidian_ is chartered to Outbound Ventures, Inc. She's contracted by Starfleet for particular tasks. My kidnapping precipitated her joining in the rescue effort. I'm sorry if this disillusions any of you but Starfleet wouldn't normally hire a vessel to participate in what is the duty of its regular forces."

Gant Delane remained silent. The Federation President knew of Macen's ultimate loyalties and of their covert nature. His silence insured that Macen and his team would continue to have the latitude that their role required.

"Now for Commander Vaughn." Macen motioned for Vaughn to step forward. For Vaughn, the moment was rife with embarrassment. Secluded in the shadows for the bulk of his career, the limelight of being _DS9's_ XO still threatened to overwhelm him at times.

Vaughn greeted the rescued "delegates" and informed them that any of them that wanted to ride back to _Deep Space 9 _in the _Defiant _were welcome to. No one leapt at the offer. Their cabins were quite comfortable, if somewhat less luxurious then most of them were accustomed to.

Vaughn ended his speech and stepped aside. Macen invited the assembly to sample the offerings of the _Obsidian's _resident chef. Nearly half declined and retired to their quarters. The remainder settled down for a sumptuous meal. Knowing that she was on display, the chef had outdone herself.

* * *

Macen and Vaughn excused themselves and moved to Macen's Ready Room. T'Kir, of course, tagged along. Ro, having changed out of her tactical armour, met them on the bridge. Exchanging greetings and introductions with Forger, they retired to the Captain's office area.

T'Kir curled up on the couch while Vaughn and Ro occupied the two chairs arrayed before Macen's desk. Macen took drink orders from everyone. After the niceties were observed, Macen enquired as to why Vaughn had wanted to meet.

"I'll be transporting back over to the _Defiant_ in a few moments." Vaughn explained, "I just wanted to coordinate our schedules and routes."

"Have Ezri contact Shannon and let them wrangle it out." Macen replied and leaned back. Peering at Vaughn over his mug, he asked, "What's really on your mind, Elias?"

"Are you certain that you don't want to be an official member of Starfleet Intelligence?" Vaughn held up his hand, "Hear me out. By being part of Starfleet, you have guidelines and boundaries outlining your course. You don't have those safeguards and I think that they might prove to be useful."

"This is about GO 24, isn't it?" Macen asked.

"Among other things." Vaughn confessed, "You've always thought outside the box but over the years you've become a maverick."

"Are you saying that you don't trust me any more?" Macen softly enquired.

"I still trust you, Brin." Vaughn replied, "But I have my doubts as to your reliability and stability."

"That's honest enough." Macen sat his mug down, "Have you shared these concerns with Alynna and Amanda?"

"Not yet." Vaughn admitted.

"Better hurry." Macen urged, "I wouldn't want you to feel guilty about holding your peace if something were to happen."

Vaughn hesitated and Macen smiled, "This isn't a cry for help, Elias. I just want you to follow your conscience."

Vaughn nodded, "It's appreciated." Vaughn drained his glass and set it down on Macen's desk, "If you don't mind, I'll find my own way down to the transporter room."

"Suit yourself." Macen replied. Vaughn departed and Macen turned to Ro.

"So, you looked ready to start a small war on my behalf." He grinned.

"Just about." Ro admitted, "The real credit for your rescue goes to Tom Riker."

"Really?" Macen was happily intrigued, "Tell me more."

"Well, it all started on _DS9_." Ro began, "The Captain had called a meeting and…"


	25. Chapter 25

Before Macen and T'Kir retired for the evening, a signal from Garane's offices was relayed to the comm centre in their quarters. T'Kir brushed out her hair after releasing it from the tail it had been arranged in. Macen fielded the call.

"Hello Proconsul." Macen said formally, "Your timing is impeccable. Our ships are breaking orbit and I was about to retire for the evening."

"I wanted you to know," Garane said without preamble, "I have ordered the complete destruction of our mind scanner. The stipulations you laid out are being implemented. You have no reason to return."

"I'll let Starfleet double check that if you don't mind." Macen returned.

"Yes," Garane wore a thin smile, "Commander Vaughn said that the Starfleet would send a diplomatic envoy. Informal contact has provoked a failure. We shall see if formal relations prove to be more fruitful."

"We can only hope." Macen commented.

One of Garane's eye ridges rose, "You would still wish for successful exchanges between our cultures?"

"Of course." Macen readily replied, "I think we have a lot to teach each other."

"We shall see." Garane said without much optimism, "I still feel that we have much to share with you but I can see little of value within the Federation."

"Time and exposure can change many things." Macen opined, "We'll see where you stand in another decade or two."

"Indeed we shall." Garane said with an enigmatic smile. The transmission ended a second later. The gist of the conversation troubled Macen. He decided to recommend to the Council of Five that Ambassador Wid Terrel personally handle the impending negotiations.

The Chandillans were ripe for the famed "Johnson touch". If anyone could get the Chandillans honestly talking and willing to engage in cultural exchanges it was Robert Tavar Johnson. Unfortunately, Johnson was not available. Terrel was the next best thing.

Macen looked at the time and decided to forgo sending that particular recommendation until tomorrow morning. He'd decided to sleep in since he on medically prescribed light duty for the next nine hours. T'Kir had shamelessly volunteered to stay by his side and act as his nurse.

"Are you coming to bed or what?" T'Kir called out from the bedroom.

"On my way." Macen said as he entered the room, "I just need to change and brush my teeth."

"Hurry up." T'Kir urged, "I promise you you won't need clothes tonight."

"I did promise you that I'd administer a little personalised attention didn't I?" Macen grinned.

"Damn skippy you did." T'Kir retorted. She pulled the covers off to reveal her nude form, "I'm ready and waiting."

"I'll be there in just a sec." Macen assured her, "I promise."

Moments later, Macen emerged from the san and shucked his clothing, "Ready?"

T'Kir grinned, "Am I ever."

* * *

"Thank you, my dear." Delane said to Kalista, "I know your shift must have ended already. It is kind of you to deliver these padds for me."

Kalista bestowed a radiant smile upon him, "I rarely have that much to do and besides, if you don't go out of your way for the President, who will you strive to help?"

"I'll deliver this last one personally." Delane said, "You did say that she was in 224?"

"Yes." Kalista said brightly and pointed down the corridor, "Right down there."

Delane bowed his head, "Thank you."

Kalista happily bustled off and Delane proceeded down the corridor. Coming to the appropriate door, he nodded to the young guard standing watch and depressed the door chime. The door slid aside and Astris was revealed still in her underwear. She reddened as she gestured for Delane to enter.

"There's no need to stand on ceremony with me." Delane said reassuringly, "If you'd like to grab a robe, I'll wait."

"No," Astris composed herself, "come in. I'll only be a moment."

Delane entered and took a moment to acknowledge Kara's presence. The Bajoran woman was seated on the couch cradling a steaming cup of tea. She looked uncomfortable.

"If you need privacy I could go into the bedroom and wait." She offered.

Delane held up a hand, "No need. What I have to say concerns both of you."

Astris forewent the robe and sat down beside Kara. The couple clasped hands. Delane handed Astris the padd he had brought. She accepted it with her free hand and at first looked at it with some confusion and then, as dawning realisation gripped her, she scrutinised every word. When she had finished, she handed the device to Kara.

Kara looked puzzled as she studied the document displayed by the padd. When she had finished, she held it close to her chest.

"I don't understand." Kara admitted.

"It's a whitewash." Astris snorted, "They're covering everything up."

"Please understand," Delane urged, "the citizenry cannot be allowed to know how easily we were all kidnapped. The populace is nervous enough already in the wake of Cell 51's coup. My Cabinet, and the Federal Committee of the Council, have debated this at considerable length and we feel that the Federation is best served by burying this. The Select Commission on Security has already classified these events as a state secret."

Delane was pained as he spoke, "You cannot discuss this matter with anyone who was not involved."

"Where does that leave me?" Kara asked, "I surrendered myself so that I could face Federation justice. What happens now? A secret trial?"

"You are honestly repentant about your actions and complicity in this affair?" Delane inquired.

"Of course." Kara pleaded her case, "If I wasn't, I would have left Beru on Chandilla and would never have sought Starfleet's assistance."

"Then I issue a preemptive pardon on your behalf." Delane produced yet another padd from the folds of his tunic, "You are excused for any crimes you _may _have committed. You will, of course, be expected to resign from your post as Legal Minister for personal reasons."

Kara gave the pardon a cursory examination and looked up, "I'm free?"

Delane smiled, "Consider yourself to be in the 1st Minister's custody."

Kara and Astris exchanged joyful looks and then they embraced. Delane beamed. Rising, he straightened out his tunic.

"I'll be leaving you now." He announced.

"No," Astris insisted, "stay! Help us celebrate."

"May I invite a few friends?" Delane asked.

"Invite whomever you please." Astris replied, "In fact, I'm going to invite Vladimir Kirov."

"Amongst my guests shall be Captain Macen and his charming wife." Delane warned.

"Good." Kara spoke, "I like him. He helped me see reason."

"And me as well." Astris admitted, "Invite him. In fact, I insist that you invite him."

"Very well." Delane stepped to the door and stepped out. Looking around, he smiled, "I see my message to the Captain arrived safely. Your guard has already been posted elsewhere."

"I also suggest that we use the area they call the Team Room." Delane offered, "It has larger accommodations than your humble quarters and there are refreshments on demand."

"Good thinking." Astris acknowledged, "Gena and I will get dressed and join you there."

"It will be a pleasure." Delane bowed and then shambled off.

Astris took Kara's hands and pulled her off of the couch, "C'mon m'dear. We have to make you presentable for the party."

* * *

Drake Parsons was there, as well as Korista Schrieber and Amelia Wynter. Kirov came at Astris' behest. Hirjin Jant was present as well Fer Mandar of Bolia. Macen and T'Kir showed up fashionably late and conspicuously armed.

T'Kir wore the crew's khaki desert uniform pants with a black cable knit sweater. Macen wore a pair of olive green SOBs. Delane chuckled as he approached Macen.

"I haven't seen that uniform for forty years." Delane confided.

"Of all the uniforms I've worn, the 'Horatio Hornblower' era and the class-B's of the late `60's and early `70's were my favourites." Macen divulged.

"Yes," Delane nodded, "I've heard as much from veteran Starfleet officers. Most of those still serving approve of the current uniform as well."

Macen grinned, "It is fine, as long as you skip a few layers."

Delane laughed. T'Kir chose that moment to interject a question, "Have we missed the happy couple?"

"No." Delane smiled conspiratorially, "There was a problem with Kara's wardrobe. It is being addressed as we speak."

T'Kir wore a sly grin, "Meaning she's putting on a whole new outfit while we wait."

"Exactly." Delane chortled.

* * *

The room's doors opened once more and Kara and Astris stepped in to applause. Kara reddened but Astris curtsied. The waiting crowd milled about the honourees and wished them well and asked about their future. Astris excused herself and she proceeded to the kitchen. A moment later, she emerged with a bottle of Riker's prised vintage champagne. She replicated a crystal flute and tapped it with a spoon to garner everyone's attention.

"This isn't how I planned this, and to be honest, I'd seriously doubted this day would come over the last few days." Everyone waited in rapt silence as Astris approached. The crowd parted and allowed her direct access to Kara. Astris took Kara's hands in her own.

"You've proven, in a single moment and with a single decision, that you love me beyond measure. I can only hope I can do the same. Kara Gena will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Tears of radiant joy streamed down Kara's face, "Of course I will, silly."

They kissed and the crowd cheered. Everyone moved to the replicator and started producing flutes. The champagne was uncorked and it freely flowed into glasses.

Kara wiped her eyes and beamed, "I must look a mess."

T'Kir returned from the replicator with a small case, "I think this will help patch things up."

Kara opened it to reveal a fully equipped selection of make up. She rewarded T'Kir with a radiant smile, "You're a life saver."

"The head is over there." T'Kir pointed out the door.

Kara excused herself and Astris turned to T'Kir, "Thank you for that. I'd overlooked that factor."

"Should've seen me after this lug proposed to me." T'Kir jerked a thumb in Macen's direction, "I wasn't fit to look at for the rest of the day."

"You two seem to provide invaluable services through small touches." Astris observed.

"We just nudge people in the way that they already want to go." Macen replied.

"She has been in there awhile." Delane pointed out.

Astris wore a wry expression, "She may be a veritable super woman but she's a ninny when it comes to cosmetics. I'll be back."

Astris departed and joined Kara in the restroom. Wynter and Kirov made their way to the remaining trio. Each held two flutes.

"Where did the lovebirds go?" Wynter asked.

"They're in the head gettin' girly." T'Kir remarked.

"Well," Kirov happily smiled, "more for me."

He drained one flute and started on the second. Wynter shook her head, "Vlad, you are such a hedonist."

"No," Kirov shook his head, "Schrieber is the hedonist. I'm merely a sensualist."

Wynter scowled, "Whatever you are, you're a philanthropic misogynist."

"Hardly true." Kirov huffed, "I love my wife _and _all of my mistresses. They are all cared for. If it were legal on my world I would marry them all. Since it isn't, we all accommodate one another."

"Stow it." Wynter huffed, "They're out and coming this way."

Kirov bowed before them, "My dear ones, you are both absolutely radiant."

Wynter handed Kara her flute of champagne, "We had one for you as well, Beru. Vlad drank it."

"Let me get you another." Kirov offered, "I could use a refill myself."

"Thank you, kind sir." Astris bantered.

"Drake Parsons seems to have wormed his way into Kori's good graces." Astris observed.

Wynter turned. Across the room, Schrieber and Parsons were huddled in a corner. Jant and Mandar were walking away from the serving area with plates heaped with food. They took seats and toasted one another.

"Everyone seems cosy enough." Wynter allowed.

"So," Astris gave Wynter a conspiratorial look, "what exactly is it between you and Vlad?"

Wynter coloured, "We had a dalliance years ago _before _I knew about his wife…or his plethora of mistresses."

"You still haven't forgiven him for withholding that information, have you?" Kara asked.

"I guess not." Wynter admitted in a quiet voice.

Kirov returned and offered a fresh flute to Astris, "Here you are, my ravishing beauty."

"You three aren't drinking." Kara turned to Macen, T'Kir and Delane, "Why?"

"While I share in your happiness it is best if I do not imbibe." Delane said, "Champagne has an unnerving effect upon my kind. You've never seen such a sight as an Edosian trying to coordinate three limbs while intoxicated."

"I'm sorry." Astris felt horrible, "I didn't mean…"

Delane waved her concerns aside, "I shall avail myself of some nectar. That will sate my thirst."

Kara turned to Macen and T'Kir, "And you two?"

"Pretty much the same story as the President." Macen replied, "You don't want to see us after a few drinks."

"You _really _don't want t'be `round me after I've downed a few." T'Kir wryly grinned.

"You have to have _something_." Astris pleaded.

T'Kir looked into Macen's eyes, "Can ya get me some of that carbonated apple cider?"

Macen took her hand and kissed it, "But of course."

Macen followed Delane's trail. Wynter wore a rueful smile, "I'm jealous."

Kara wrapped an arm around Astris' waist, "I'm not."

"I daresay that would be a good thing." Kirov chuckled.

"So," T'Kir's eyebrow quirked up and she wore a mischievous grin, "what's the private celebration gonna be like?"

There was a lot of blushing and Wynter gave her a reproving glare. T'Kir hunched her shoulders and raised her hands in supplication, "What?"

* * *

Late in the next morning Macen and T'Kir grabbed a quiet breakfast. Several of the planetary leaders were gathered around Delane. The President was fielding questions. The cooks revealed that the Edosian had been there for several hours and had been in discussions with a constantly rotating band of civil officials. Macen and T'Kir exchanged a knowing glance. They knew what was being discussed even if the cooks didn't. That would change when Macen made his ship wide announcement prohibiting the crew from discussing their concluded mission with anyone.

Macen had ordered the bridge to block any and all transmissions from the crew's quarters. He was waiting to see what fallout would result from that. Having finished breakfast, Macen and T'Kir went to the bridge. The flack began as soon as they exited the turbolift.

"Hey!" Grace said sharply, "I was talking to Ian last night and my comm went dead!"

Riker turned to face Macen, "I was talking to Will and Deanna and the same thing happened to me."

"Put me on ship wide with the active duty officers." Macen ordered the OPS rating. A moment later, Macen was addressing the crew through their comm badges, "Attention everyone. This is the Captain. By order of the Office of the President of the Federation the mission we have just completed is classified as classified top secret for national security. You are not, I repeat _not_, to discuss this case with anyone that wasn't involved in it."

Macen made a cutting motion across his chest with his hand and the rating nodded as he complied with the unspoken order. Riker had a quizzical look on his face.

"What about the Gammas?"

"They got the word last night after I did." Macen explained.

"So there was a coverage gap." Riker said.

"Not much of one." Macen replied, "It took that long for Delane to declare everything a secret. Whatever went out before that is a problem for Federation Security."

"So," Riker rubbed his chin, "are you going to lift the comm blackout?"

"No." Macen said with a grin, "Let's let things sink in for a while first."

"Bastard." this came from Grace.

"Go look after your wayward friend." Macen said to T'Kir. T'Kir and Grace immediately fell into whispers. Conspiratorial glances were thrown back in the direction of Macen and Riker.

"There will be no stopping them now." Riker groaned.

"What are you doing after your shift ends?" Macen enquired.

"Why?" Riker asked with suspicion.

"The rescued dignitaries are throwing a party this evening." Macen smirked, "Your attendance is required."

"I never say 'no' to a party." Riker grinned.

"I didn't think you'd say no." Macen started to move away. Over his shoulder he said, "I'll be in my Ready Room if I'm needed."

"Say 'hi' to Admiral Drake for me." Riker called out.

"Am I that predictable?" Macen asked.

Riker wore a smug smile, "I won the bet. Kort thought you'd violate prescribed orders and report in last night."

Macen wore a rueful smile, "I had to attend a party last night otherwise I might have."

"I didn't see the party coming." Riker admitted, "Otherwise I would have made a bet about that as well."

"You need a hobby." Macen remarked.

"I have one." Riker unrepentantly grinned, "I'm getting rich off of your actions."

"Oi vey." Macen kvetched and he went into his Ready Room.

* * *

Ambril Delori answered Macen's hail. She looked quite pleased with herself. Macen wondered why and then he noticed the extra pip on her collar marking her as a newly minted Lt. Commander.

"Congratulations, Commander." Macen sincerely offered.

Ambril beamed, "Thank you. The Admiral's going to be free in an hour. Would you like her to call you then?"

"That would be perfect." Macen warmly smiled, "Thank you."

Ambril signed off with a chipper smile. _Probably grateful that I didn't give her a hard time, _Macen mused. He started in on writing his incident report for the SID. Time slipped away and Macen's comm terminal began to chirp. He accepted the incoming transmission and was greeted by the image of Amanda Drake.

"What's wrong with you?" Drake asked without preamble.

"Hello to you to, Amanda." Macen smirked, "Who says anything's wrong?"

"Ambril says your being polite and courteous. I _know_ something's wrong." Drake said.

"Can't someone just be nice without an ulterior motive?" Macen asked.

"Not you." Drake sighed, "What's going on?"

"I'm just basking in the reflected glory of my passengers." Macen quipped.

"Oh Lord." Drake grimaced, "How have you screwed up interstellar policy?"

"I haven't." Macen protested.

"Domestic policy then?" Drake inquired.

"Have a little faith, Amanda." Macen replied, "I'm behaving."

"Well, will miracles never cease?" Drake said in wonder, "I guess there's a first time for everything."

"Including your sense of humour." Macen said drolly.

"That's more like the Macen I know." Drake grinned, "I knew you'd come back."

"By popular request, I assure you." Macen remarked.

"Now that the pleasantries have been exchanged," Drake shifted the tone, "How are your esteemed passengers faring?"

"One couple got engaged and tonight there's a party on Tom's behalf." Macen answered.

Drake blinked, "Did you just say…?"

"A semi-long story." Macen smiled, "I'll tell you the details later in my written report."

"This should be good." Drake grinned.

"It is." Macen concurred.

"The word I'm getting from the President's office is that you made the SID look good." Drake happily reported, "The Secretary of Defence and the Interstellar Security Advisor are speaking to the C-in-C even now. Alynna's going to get the dirt and update me later."

"Ah, gossip. The life's blood of Starfleet." Macen quipped.

"All too true." Drake laughed.

"Anyway," Macen shifted the focus back to the topic on hand, "we'll reach _DS9_ tomorrow evening. Have transports standing by to whisk everyone away."

"I'll hand it over to Ed Noyce." Drake promised, "He'd love to arrange everything."

"Good." Macen said emphatically.

"And what about you?" Drake was intrigued.

"Well," Macen said wryly, "We've been paying for empty rooms on Bajor. I'd like to use them before we ship out. The crew could use shore leave so we'll put in at the station and go from there."

"Sounds good." Drake said with a pleased smile, "I'll call you again in a few days and see about your next assignment."

"Don't make it too soon." Macen wheedled.

"I won't." Drake chuckled, "See you later."

"Later, `Manda." Macen said a second before Drake terminated the transmission.

* * *

Macen finished up his after action report over the next two hours. Afterwards, he relieved Riker so that the 1st Officer could fill in what happened during Macen's absence. Riker trudged off with a weary sigh. T'Kir plopped down in the XO's seat beside Macen.

"Hiya Cutie!" she happily bubbled.

"You're mighty perky." Macen observed.

"Hannah needs a vacation." T'Kir insisted.

"I take it Ian Delaney finally received permission to go on leave." Macen replied.

"Yup." T'Kir's head bobbed, "Love is in the air."

"Who am I to deny a hormonal rush like this?" Macen dryly enquired.

"I knew you'd see it my way." T'Kir kissed Macen on the cheek, "I'll tell Hannah she can catch a shuttle when we visit the station."

"What about her room in Sinherra?" Macen asked.

"I'll move her stuff out of it and Radil can have it. It'll keep her from sneaking off the station to visit the city." T'Kir winked and hurried off to the helm console.

_Who's _really _in charge of this ship?_ Macen wondered.

* * *

They arrived at _DS9_ without internal or external incident. The _Defiant _docked in her usual berth. The _Obsidian _took Lower Pylon 3.

The party for Riker had been a rousing success. A few of the civil leaders drank themselves under the table but their behaviour had been moderate enough. Delane had personally thanked Riker for his planning of their rescue.

Riker soaked up the accolades until Danan quietly offered to personally reward him. He'd hurriedly excused himself and followed her out of the room. For Macen it was further proof that the women were really running the ship. He had no problem with female authority but he would have liked to have been informed that he'd relinquished command.

The crew received shore leave. The stay was set at five days. Half of the crew made travel plans to Bajor and the rest got quarters on the station. Radil happily took Grace's place. Dracas relented and agreed to come to the planet with the others. Kort said that Dracas could share his room if no others were available. Grace bounced onto the shuttle bound for Earth. Delaney and the _Intrepid_ were already there waiting.

The planetary leaders were shown to shuttles bound for waiting starships. Each starship had sent their XO's and their finest Security details. Macen, Riker and Vaughn stood in the Promenade and said goodbye to the various representatives. When that was finished Macen turned to Vaughn.

"Are you sure you won't join us down there?" Macen asked Vaughn, "Laren is."

Vaughn grinned, "I can't. Kira is shipping the _Defiant _out to quell a problem arising in the Gamma Quadrant."

"I'll leave you to get what rest you can." Macen squeezed his elderly friend's arm. Vaughn briskly strode off and Riker shook his head.

"If I should be half that spry at his age." Riker said wistfully.

"Lees says you're doing a good job at staying in shape." Macen grinned, "Something about 'lots of endurance' I believe."

"Hey!" Riker indignantly protested.

"Get used to it Tom." T'Kir giggled, "We're one big happy family. We have no secrets."

"Is it too late to find another family?" Riker plaintively asked.

"Yah, it is." T'Kir took Riker's arm and started leading towards the shuttle, "But look on the bright side: Lees is waiting for you."

Riker grinned, "I guess it can't be all bad then."

"Nope. Not as long as we watch out for each other." T'Kir let go of Riker's arm and he came up beside Danan. Macen stepped up behind T'Kir and wrapped his arms around her.

"`Course," T'Kir beamed, "This works too."

* * *

**There are five more stories already completed in this series with one in progress right now. They will be posted over the next few weeks. There have been 13 installments of the series posted and I've received 1 review. Although there are readers I don't know how the series is being received. I may relegate all future installments to the Star Trek site where they've been hosted for the last thirteen years. **


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